The Day After
by hawelyshyte-emily
Summary: This engaging story tells a tale of what exactly happens the day after Voldemort's defeat.I ship with the classics in this one. More chapters will be added later on:D. Enjoy!
1. Good Morning, Harry

**Hey guys:D. This story is titled "The Day After" and, of course, is about the day following Voldemort's death. Woo. I understand that this chapter doesn't seem happy or cheerful...at all, but in the following chapters, it does brighten up a bit. Trust me, I've already written them. I'm going to release each chapter a few days apart so I can keep you waiting:D. I'm not going to beg you to rate, but I think it would be a nice thing of you to do. I really want some helpful critizism, so please don't hesitate on giving me any. Anways, enjoy the story, everyone:D.**

**Oh, and no matter how many times I wish at 11:11, Harry Potter is not, and will never be, mine.**

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Harry Potter awoke with a start. A nightmare involving flashes of green light and terrified screams quickly faded from his memory. His emerald green eyes danced about the scarlet draping surrounding the bed he lay in. The mattress beneath him felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable, like wearing a jacket that hasn't seen the outside of its closet since the winter before. Harry struggled to realize why he felt so relieved and devastated at the same; screwing up his face in an effort to remember. 

He was sure his heart stopped when the memories of that night came into focus. Voldemort's death was only second in importance to the deaths of the fifty-something people who fought to rid the world of such evil. The lost faces swirled into his mind, clouding his every thought, rendering him unable to dwell on the encouraging fact that he had destroyed the most terrible being of all.

"No..." Harry whispered as he saw the body of Lupin in his mind's eye, lying on the cold, hard floor of the Great Hall. A look only the dead possessed was spread across his lined face, proclaiming reality. He was gone.

What about Fred and Tonks? Harry searched his memory and found them both, they were certainly dead. And even Colin Creevey. Harry shuttered as he remembered snapping at him about five years ago. He really ought to have not done that. Colin was just trying to be kind, just wanted to befriend him.

But why would anyone want to become Harry's friend? Almost everyone Harry cared for was lying somewhere, completely lifeless. Earning his friendship would be a death sentence. Harry felt angry and ashamed; had it all really been because of him? Had everyone died because he didn't give himself up earlier? Their deaths felt unnecessary.

Harry couldn't stand the way his sweatpants laid against his legs. He couldn't stand having the very top of his head touch his headboard. He couldn't stand how his right big toe was brushing against the drapes. He couldn't stand anything. He couldn't stand Neville's snores or the absence of Ron's. Ron Weasley was surely awake too; his own brother had been killed.

Harry bolted upright and ripped the drapes open. They had been suffocating him, smothering his thoughts. Maybe his heart would stop pounding against his ribs with them apart. He heard Ron's sudden, fake snores begin. Harry had to squint in the unexpected burst of sunlight against his eyes. He had forgotten that when he fell asleep it was already half an hour, or more, after dawn. He put on his black, round glasses and let the fuzzy room become defined. He looked down at the watch Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given him for his birthday, searching for some indication of the current time. It was rather confusing to read, or maybe he was just too tired to understand. Harry climbed out of bed and went to the window. It looked to be around nine in the morning, but that thought had left Harry's mind rather quickly. His heart fell as he looked out onto the grounds, which was normally a dazzling, attractive sight, especially in June. But where had all the beauty gone? The castle looked to be in shambles and Harry was surprised it was holding up. There was a collection of witches and wizards on the grounds, using their wands to sweep up debris, and, as Harry noticed, a lifeless body or two. He pulled the curtains on the window together, not wanting to see the faces of the lives lost in case he could recognize them. Harry found himself traveling to the bed in which Ron pretended to be sleeping.

"Ron?" Harry murmured, not wanting to wake the rest of the sleepers. Ron's snoring continued.

"Ron! It's Harry; I know you're not actually asleep, so, c'mon, get up." Harry said in a hushed whisper, and prodded the red-headed boy with his pointer finger. He knew he should have been kinder, but he had the weight of about 50 people's deaths on his shoulders, only one being a death that he didn't mind. Ron's eyelids flew open and looked into Harry's.

"Yes?" Ron muttered back, his eyes as red as his hair. Had he been crying?

"Did it really happen?" Harry asked, letting the first thing on his mind pass his lips.

Ron blinked.

"Did _what_ really happen?"

"Everything," Harry answered simply, feeling rather childish and stupid. Of course it was true; there was no need for his best friend to verify the happenings.

"Harry, I'm going to need more to go on than tha—"

"Fred, Lupin, Tonks," Harry paused before adding "Colin." Harry saw Ron recoil at Fred's name, as though it physically hurt him to hear it.

"They're dead, if that's what you're asking." Ron answered, letting his eyes flutter upwards towards the ceiling.

"Voldemort too?" Harry questioned, steadying himself on one of the banisters of the four-poster bed. He honestly felt like he might topple over with the weight of the casualties pressing down upon him.

"He's finished, mate. And you were the one that finished him." Ron sat up in his bed and looked Harry in the eyes. Harry looked back. There was something different about Ron's expression, something he couldn't put his finger on.

"…You okay?" Harry said. Ron didn't answer, so Harry sat down beside him, somewhat halting the feeling of what it would be like to give Uncle Vernon a piggy-back ride, and spoke again.

"Fred-"

Ron put up his hand to silence Harry.

"Not now. Not yet. Later." Ron said simply, not sounding angry, just pained. He slid back down under his covers and resumed staring at the ceiling. A minute's silence followed.

"Alright," Harry finally spoke, getting off the bed. The feeling of a heavy weight on his shoulders returned and Harry yearned for it to lift. He was relieved, of course, but somehow it still felt as though Voldemort's demise was all a dream and that only the other deaths, the deaths of those who sacrificed themselves to fight the darkest wizard of all time, were reality.

"He's not coming back, is he?" Ron said, breaking the renewed silence. The second after he said it, he seemed to want to take it back, as his face turned pink and he winced. Harry didn't have to ask who Ron was talking about.

"No, Ron, Fred isn't coming back." Harry said flatly. He looked straight at Ron. Harry suddenly understood the unusual look Ron wore. Acceptance and maturity filled every faint line, every freckle, and every feature on his best friend's face. Ron nodded, turned to lie on his side, and closed his eyes. Harry, knowing it was best not to disturb him any further, pulled the burgundy drapes hanging over the bed closed and walked to his own.

As physically and emotionally exhausted as Harry was, he knew that he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. His mind was whirling and refusing to rest. Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl under the warm covers of his four-poster bed, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to do so. He yawned and decided to go down and visit the common room. Harry took his newly repaired wand from his nightstand and pulled his Invisibility Cloak out from his trunk and threw it over himself. If anyone was down in the common room, there was no way he could be bothered—or noticed. Harry dragged himself down the stairs from the boy's dormitories and entered the inviting, circular, scarlet common room. The seat of Harry's usual plush armchair in the room was draped with red blankets. Maybe he could curl up in them and fall asleep. The castle seemed rather chilly for a day in June. He suspected it was because a side of Hogwarts was blown out entirely that night. Harry was making his way towards the chair when—

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, quite startled. He pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and shoved it in the pocket of his pajama bottoms. A girl with bushy, brown hair was sitting in an armchair by one of the windows. She put her finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet. Hermione then pointed to the bundle of blankets lying in the chair he was previously heading towards. Harry gasped as the blankets shifted, and realized that they were in fact Ginny Weasley in a long, crimson nightgown. Hermione got up from her chair and tiptoed over to him.

"I don't want to wake her, she just feel asleep. Ginny hasn't been feeling her best." Hermione whispered.

"Blimey, I don't blame her." Harry answered, peering around Hermione to get a better view of Ginny. She was curled towards him now, her red hair sprawled across her face, blowing up slightly every time she exhaled.

"Oh Harry, when she thought you were, well,"

"Dead," Harry finished for her.

"Yes, dead. You should have seen her."

"Should I have?" Harry asked, tearing his eyes away from the sleeping Ginny.

"No," Hermione said quickly. "It's just, she was completely beside herself. She was _so_ devastated. And with what happened to Fred-" Hermione's voice cracked. She looked down at her slippers and didn't say any more. Harry bit his lip, suddenly feeling immensely guilty for the pain he had caused Ginny. The weight upon his shoulders seemed to double. He was surprised he wasn't being driven into the ground. Hermione looked up at him, and reading his expression, added,

"Oh Harry, no, don't feel guilty! It's not your fault she's so distressed. It's just been a rough night, you know, for everyone."

Harry sighed and looked back at Ginny. He had remembered when he thought he'd be seeing her for the last time. She had been doing what made her so special, so perfect: She was helping another with their troubles. Harry ran his fingers through his black hair, trying to forget what occurred after that. He didn't want to remember seeing his dead parents, Sirius, or Lupin at the moment.

"I can't believe that it's finally over." whispered Hermione.

"I know what you mean." Harry said as he collapsed into the closest chair. Hermione placed her hand on his armrest and looked out towards the window.

"D'you know what they're going to do with Voldemort's body?" Harry asked, picking at a tear in his sweatpants.

"No idea. Maybe they'll cremate him." Hermione stopped staring out the window and took to watching Ginny sleep. Harry did the same.

"He doesn't even deserve that." Harry said bitterly.

"I know, but what else can they do? It's not like they're going to throw the body of the darkest wizard of all time into the ocean or something."

"I reckon they'll just Vanish him." Harry said, looking longingly at Ginny. He wanted her to wake up so he could hug her, reassure her that everything would turn out fine.

"Yeah," Hermione said. "Probably,"

For a few moments the only thing that could be heard in the common room were Ginny's slow, steady, sleeping breaths. Harry looked around. The room looked the same as it did in his sixth year, except maybe a little neater. He heard a faint moan and whipped his head around to look for the source. Ginny was thrashing slightly in her chair, mumbling in her sleep. Harry jumped off his chair and attempted to run to her, but Hermione held him back.

"_No_," She whispered in his ear.

"YES, Hermione! Ginny—"

"If Ginny knew you were awake, Harry, she'd refuse to sleep. She needs to sleep now, she needs to rest. She's been through a lot—"

"_Oh, and like I haven't_?" Harry said, raising his voice. "Hermione, move over—don't touch me!—just let me see her. I can comfort her; I can make her feel—"

"No, Harry, you really can't! She needs another girl right now. Please be quiet, please! You can talk to her later, I promise. Even though you two are close, I don't want her to feel embarrassed of her state. She's really sad, Harry—"

"LET ME SEE MY GIRLFRIEND!" Harry bellowed. Hermione gaped at him.

"She not—she isn't—no, Harry—broke up—remember?" Hermione stammered.

"Harry?" He heard Ginny ask. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but felt a hand on top of his head push him onto the common room floor, so he was lying behind the chair he was previously sitting in.

"No, Ginny, it's just Hermione." Harry heard quick footsteps and the squeak of an armchair.

"I heard Harry." Ginny explained; her voice fainter and higher than usual.

"You must have been dreaming it. Harry's sleeping. I'm the only one awake down here."

"No, I heard him!"

"Ginny, trust me, you were dreaming it. It looked like you were having a rough sleep." Hermione cooed. Carefully and silently, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak from his pocket and draped it over himself. He stood up and walked over to stand behind the chair where Ginny sat. Hermione was kneeling on the floor next to her, a look of concern plastered on her face. Ginny looked worn and, for the first time in so long, truly emotionally vulnerable.

"Fred," Ginny squeaked before burying her face into her hands. Harry watched her entire body shake with tears. Harry, who suddenly felt like he was intruding on something private, backed away a few steps. It hurt him so much to see her so miserable. With every muffled wail, his heart tore a little more.

"Oh, Gin, you must feel terrible." Hermione said, stroking Ginny's ginger hair with her right hand, her left resting on Ginny's bony shoulder.

Harry backed up so far that he hit the wall. He slowly slid down it, closing his eyes, listening to Ginny's sobs. Ginny had always been so strong.

"Do you want to be left alone?" Harry heard Hermione ask.

"P-please. Th-thanks f-for staying here with me, Hermione. You can go to bed. I'll b-be fine." Ginny sniffled. Harry opened his eyes and saw Hermione walk to where she had hid him minutes before. "Harry?" she mouthed, looking worried when she didn't see him. He watched as Hermione pointed her wand at Ginny and cast a silent spell, probably the _Muffiato_ charm.

"Harry, you heard Ginny, she wants to be alone. If you're still here, leave. I swear Harry, if you aren't heading upstairs right now, you're going to be so de—" Hermione stopped, her mouth lingering on the word she forbid herself to say. "You're going to be in big trouble." She finished quickly. Hermione pointed her wand at Ginny again, most likely lifting the spell she set on her. She then turned on her heel and walked up to the girl's dormitories. Harry didn't dare breathe until he heard a door shut. He quietly stood up and walked to Ginny to get a better look at her. She remained in the chair, silently wiping away tears with her small hands. Harry longed to hold them in his for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Ginny," He breathed, ripping off the Invisibility Cloak. Ginny jumped and stared at him with her teary, brown eyes.

"How long have you been there, Harry?" She asked, making an obvious effort to steady her voice.

"The whole time." He answered, not sure how she would react. Would Ginny be furious with him for spying? Or would she be thankful that he had been there for her, even if she wasn't aware of it? Harry found himself desperately praying she would feel the latter.

"Oh." She said softly.

"Er—"

"So I didn't dream it?"

"What? Oh! No, you didn't dream it. That was me." Harry admitted, tucking his Invisibility Cloak away while he talked. Ginny gazed up him, biting her lip.

"Right," She looked slightly nervous. Then she said very quickly, "Harry, when you were trying to speak to me and Hermione wasn't letting you...well, you called me your girlfriend."

Harry stayed silent. He didn't know what to say. He could feel his face reddening more with every passing second. Why _did_ he say that? It was a dumb, wrong thing to say. Ginny would surely think he was some sort of obsessive freak. He had broken up with Ginny at the end of his sixth year. They were supposed to be over. He had even promised Ron that he wouldn't mess around with Ginny again. But that was different, that was before Voldemort was defeated. Harry only ended their relationship in the first place because he knew that Voldemort had a knack for murdering the ones closest to Harry. Many tense minutes seemed to pass before—

"You were my dying thought," Harry blurted out. If Ginny didn't look broken before, she certainly did now.

"HARRY!" He heard someone shout. Harry jumped and saw Hermione was running down into the common room, panting, her wand pointed at him.

"I told you, Harry! I told you not to bother her!" Hermione screamed. Harry was reminded of the night Ron had come back to the two of them. Hermione seemed only a tad less angry now as she was then.

"_Protego_!" Harry whipped out his wand and forced an invisible shield between him and the seemingly deranged Hermione.

"Herm—" Ginny started, rising from her chair.

"_Sit down!_" Harry and Hermione roared in union. Ginny did as she was told, albeit unhappily.

"Ginny," Hermione said, letting her voice turn sweet, though still pointing her wand at Harry. "I will not let this complete _arse_ keep you from mourning the unpleasant things that have just occurred in your life in peace."

"I was just—"

"_Shut it_, Harry!" Hermione spat. "You go up to your dormitory this instant or you'll experience the wrath of my Pus-Hex on a place you'd find quite uncomfortable." She ordered, gesturing towards the said part with her free hand. Harry heard Ginny stifle a giggle.

"Don't threaten me!"

Hermione's grip on her wand tightened.

"You wouldn't be threatened if you had listened to me in the first place!"

"You don't understand, Hermione!" Harry felt fury boil up inside him. This wasn't right. No, he was supposed to be rejoicing, not fighting. But what was Hermione thinking? He needed to be alone with Ginny; he needed to speak with her.

"What I do understand is that this poor girl just lost her brother and—and that she doesn't need you to harass her!" Hermione yelled.

"_Harass her_?" Harry cried. "I was only there to comfort her!"

"But of course, you start chatting up about your little romance. Harry, are you aware that maybe this wouldn't be the best time to discuss that certain topic with Ginny?" Hermione looked insane. Her brown hair was astray and her teeth were bared. She quite honestly looked like a mentally disturbed lion.

"She brought it up!" Harry protested.

"So? You should have dropped it Harry! You should have told her you'd discuss it later! If you aren't able to tell, she's a bit unhinged at the moment!"

Harry let out a roar of laughter, terribly drenched in sarcasm. He was surprised at the noise that had just passed his lips and had to refrain himself from clapping his hands over his mouth in shock. He sounded mad.

"I just discovered that I had an eighth of Voldemort's soul festering inside of me since the age of one! Right before I found out, though, I realized that the deceased Professor Snape was madly in love with my mum! Then I saw her again, accompanied by my father, my godfather, and Lupin, all of whom have died! I revealed myself to the darkest wizard in history and basically _asked_ him to murder me! After he attempted to do so, I had a lengthy conversation with my dead headmaster, only to find out that I had not died after all, and that I had to finish Voldemort off! And you say _Ginny's_ 'a bit unhinged'? What about _me_, Hermione? How do you think _I'm_ feeling? I'm not yet ready to dawn a party hat and throw a celebration for the death of Voldemort, if you haven't noticed. In fact, I'm finding myself extremely depressed right now. Now, if you don't mind, I WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO GINNY ALONE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN TEN MONTHS!" Harry bellowed, angrier than he had been in so long. He found himself with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath, and wiping the beads of sweat that appeared on his forehead away with his sleeve. He looked up. The shield between him and Hermione had broken when he had let down his wand while he was yelling, but Hermione was not hexing him. Instead she stood there, her arms dangling loosely at her sides, a single tear running down her flushed cheek. He couldn't bear to do as much as turn his head to glance at Ginny. He was afraid of what he might find. Instead, he focused on Hermione's wet eyes. He could have sworn he saw them flicker up at his legendary lightning scar, but thought he might have imagined at, as she was back staring into his green eyes before he could have been sure.

The silence between the three of them: Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, was deafening. No one said anything, knowing that it would only come out awkward, stiff, and all wrong.

"I guess I've—well, I've got to go." said Harry, slipping his wand back into his pocket. Instead of heading towards the dormitories, though, he had rushed to the exit of the common room. He was halfway out of the portrait hole when he looked back. Hermione was staring at him, a second tear leaking out of her right eye. Ginny's face was hidden by arm of the chair, but he could tell that she was curled up again.

"You've won, Hermione. Are you happy now?" He asked, as he turned back around.

"No," He heard her whisper hoarsely as he stepped into the hallway, before slamming the portrait hole shut behind him.


	2. Into the Morgue

**Yayy, chapter two! I hope it's up to everyone's standards:). Not quite sure what else to say about it, though. Please review! I would like to know what I need to work on, so please don't hesitate in telling me.**

**Oh, and if I owned Harry Potter, I would be chilling in England right now. Which I'm not. So, rest assured, JK Rowling has her dibs on Harry.**

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Harry had no idea where his legs were taking him. He didn't know why he was dashing through the corridors of Hogwarts as he was. His mind felt numb as he passed witches and wizards, not bothering enough to feel embarrassed that he was still in his pajamas, or that he wasn't wearing shoes, or that his hair hadn't been brushed. It was as if his feet were bewitched to carry his legs up and down the various staircases, all crumbling, and looking as if they would collapse any moment. 

"Harry Potter!" One, hunched over, elderly wizard shrieked upon noticing him. Harry stopped and turned to face him.

"Oh, Harry Potter, it's such a pleasure, such a pleasure!" gushed the stranger, taking Harry's hand and shaing it violently. "Earlier this morning I was saying to myself, I was, 'Oh, wouldn't it be amazing to meet that Harry Potter boy?'! And look at us now! What a fine young man you are! Call me Orestes Orgando!" The aged man named Orestes He had a few wisps of white hair dotting his bald, wrinkled, liver spotted head. Harry stared at him, taken aback by this sudden act of admiration.

"Oh, silly me! You must be wondering what I, an old, old man is doing at this war scene!" Orgando cackled as if he had just told an incredibly funny joke. "Well, I admit it, no, I did not fight, but I'm here to help clean up and make sure that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry returns to its dashing old self! Oh, if only someone could clean me up! I'd love to look like I did before time took over!" Orestes Orgando chortled again, his tiny, pale eyes watering with what he obviously thought was his highly amusing cleverness. "I was a Hufflepuff, if you were wondering. And a mighty fine one, too!"

"Oh—right—er—yes—of course—hello." Harry's tongue stumbled over his words. Orgando looked simply awe-stricken at Harry's response. And then to Harry's great surprise—and disgust—Orgando dipped into a deep bow, the front of his robes hanging off his frail body and brushing the floor. Harry took advantage of this moment to bolt off around the corner. He heard Orestes Orgando shout behind him,

"No, Harry Potter, there is no need to run anymore! You-Know-Who is no more!"

"Call him by his name! He's dead, for heavens sake! Call him _Voldemort_!" Harry yelled, leaning up against a stone wall with great chunks of rock missing from it. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, thinking about what just occurred. He didn't deserve to be bowed to. He didn't deserve the star struck looks. So many others had earned it, others who had fought and died. And then, before he realized what he was doing, his legs started moving again. He glided down the halls, his mind somewhere far off. He could feel happiness and relief looming from behind his troubled thoughts.

"Soon," he whispered to himself, "soon I'll be happy."

Harry's bare foot hit something soft and he stopped to look down. A raggedy, stuffed toy bear rest beneath his toes, a welcoming change to the cold ground of the halls. With curiosity, he bent down to pick it up. Harry turned the animal in his hands, the brown fur sticky and stained.

"Please…sir…may I have that?" whispered a child's voice. Harry jumped and almost dropped the worn toy he was holding. A tiny boy, not looking a day older than six, gawked up at him, clearly shocked at whom he was speaking to.

"I'm sorry!" The boy squeaked. He backed into the wall of the corridor, his blue eyes wide in astonishment. "I didn't know! I really didn't know! You can keep him!" He rushed. Harry held out the stuffed animal to the boy.

"Here you go. No need to be sorry." Harry said, letting the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. The boy stared.

"You can take it." Harry put out the bear a little further. The child, not taking his eyes off of Harry for even a second, slowly seized the animal.

"You're Harry Potter." breathed the boy.

"And you're…?" asked Harry, getting down on his knee so he was a little above eye level with the adolescent.

"My name is Alfred." said the child. Alfred's was voice a bit steadier now that Harry was no longer towering over him.

"It's nice to meet you, Alfred." greeted Harry, holding out his hand. Alfred shook it apprehensively. Alfred seemed so young, so innocent, and Harry couldn't help but to continue to grin at the boy.

"Have you seen my mum or dad?" Alfred requested, as if the inquiry had been longing to leave him since he first set eyes on Harry.

"Well, it depends. Is your father a bald, elderly, strange man named Orestes Orgando?" Harry asked, smirking to himself. Alfred, who didn't understand the joke, tipped his head to the side, as if questioning Harry's mental stability.

"Never mind. When did you last see your mother and father?" Harry felt his smile slide off his face. There was no need for another orphan in the world.

"The last time I saw Dad was last night. He said he was off to fight here. He works for the Ministry. My mum…well," Alfred's voice became a soft whisper, so soft that Harry had to lean in to be able to hear. "She's normally hidden in our basement. The Ministry thought she was muggle-born so my dad had to pretend that she and my sisters, Maisie and Ellie, who are at home, are dead. I'm not supposed to be here, but I jumped into the fire at the last minute this morning when my mum left…" Alfred's voice trailed off.

"Why'd your mum leave?" Harry asked, careful to not let his inner concerns seep into his expression.

"She was crying. Mum said something about dad and someone named Dolohov." whispered the boy. Harry felt the familiar sensation of a large chunk of lead dropping into his stomach.

"Dolohov," Harry repeated, sucking in his cheeks. Alfred dropped his bear.

"What's wrong?" He demanded. Fear proclaimed itself in his cerulean colored eyes.

"Um," Harry couldn't think of anything to say.

"_What's wrong with my father_?" Alfred insisted, taking Harry by the shoulders and giving him a feeble shake. Harry opened his mouth to falsely assure Alfred that there was nothing to worry about, but no words of comfort came out. Instead he stood up, lifted the stuffed animal from the ground, took the young child by his hand, and led him out of the corridor.

"Where are you taking me?" Alfred asked, noticeably raising his voice.

Harry mumbled words that had no intended meaning. He felt terrible to worry this poor, small child.

Harry spotted Professor McGonagall hurrying down the hall, her eyes staring at the ground.

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed, and a clearly shocked McGonagall stopped in her tracks.

"Potter! How are you?" She said, turning towards him. Harry ignored her question.

"Do you know where they're laying the—" Harry caught himself just in time. Alfred looked up at him, hungry for information. McGonagall didn't need to ask as to what Harry was referring to.

"They took them into an abandoned classroom across from the Great Hall. "Is—" She gestured towards Alfred.

"He can't find his parents." Harry answered, not needing to hear the question.

"What is a boy his age doing here?" McGonagall inquired.

"He jumped in the fireplace with his mother when she was traveling here with Floo Powder." Harry explained. McGonagall looked pained.

"Well, go on then." She said. And then McGonagall advised in an undertone, "Potter, do resist from dwelling too long in there, will you? You've done something fantastic and you don't need anything dampening your spirits."

"Yes, okay. Thanks Professor." Harry nodded and waved her off.

Harry and Alfred walked in silence for the next minute or so.

"My daddy works in the Magical Maintenance Department." informed Alfred. Harry cast him a pitiful excuse for a smile.

"He promises to take me to work with him once you defeat You-Know-Who and the Ministry of Magic gets straightened out." Alfred grinned up at him. Harry felt his stomach churn uncomfortably.

"So, I'm guessing he's going to take me real soon." said Alfred cheerfully. Harry noticed that the boy had a new spring in his step with the prospect of going to work with his father.

"Here we are." muttered Harry, standing in front of the door across from the Great Hall. He took a deep breath and pulled it open.

Harry felt Alfred jump as the sound of sobs and moans filled their ears. He squeezed his hand and stepped into the room.

There were bodies everywhere. On top of them were living witches and wizards, evidently crying for their lost loved ones. Harry felt slightly nauseous as his eyes found Lupin and Tonks in a corner. He looked away.

"What an odd place to sleep." Alfred observed. He let go of Harry's hand and pointed to his right.

"Look, there's my mum!" Alfred piped up, running to a small, weeping lady. She had dark hair and a pale face. She looked vaguely familiar…

"This is Harry Potter, mummy, he helped me find you!" said Alfred eagerly. His mother gasped at the sight of Harry. She looked as if she were about to faint.

"…Harry…Potter…" She whispered, slowly walking towards him. Harry swallowed.

"Er…hello," He greeted.

"Look, Harry, there's my dad! He's taking a nap, so I don't think we should wake him. But then again…he'd be so excited to meet you! What should we do, mum? Wake him?" Alfred hopped up and down, clearly excited.

"I wish!" the lady wailed, burying her thin face into a handkerchief. Harry peered around her to see where Alfred stood. A tiny, ferretey-looking wizard was positioned on the ground next to him. His arms were crossed on top of his chest. He didn't look like he was sleeping.

"Mum? Mummy, what's wrong?" Alfred walked up to his mother and tugged on her robes. She shook her head and bawled even louder. Harry looked back at her husband. Something clicked inside Harry's brain.

"Cattermole!" He said, tightly gripping the stuffed bear he was still holding. The dead man that lay before him was the same one that Ron used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate. His wife was accused of being muggle-born and was at the trial that Hermione and he had attended.

"You're Mary Cattermole??" Harry asked, looking back at the crying woman.

"Y-yes," She cried.

"And your husband, his name was Reg Cattermole, right?" Harry said in a soft tone. The woman lifted her head from her tissue and nodded.

"Was?" croaked Alfred. "What do you mean, Harry?" Alfred turned his head to look at Harry.

"Er…Alfred," Harry started, but he had no idea what to say after. For his entire life, it had always been people comforting _him_ about death. The only times he ever consoled somebody else was with Cho Chang, and that didn't work out all too well. Sure, when Aragog died, Hagrid was quite distraught, but Harry had been taking a lucky potion when he talked to him.

"He's sleeping." Alfred reasoned. "He's just sleeping, I swear."

"Alfred—"

"He's sleeping! He fought! He's tired! He's sleeping!"

"No, Alfred, listen!"

"No! Dad's sleeping, just ask my mum!" Alfred yanked on Mary Cattermole's robes again. "Right, mummy? Dad's only sleeping, right? Tell Harry Potter that dad's sleeping!"

Mrs. Cattermole didn't answer.

"Your father's dead." Harry declared, point-blank. Alfred stopped pulling on his mother's robes for a moment, but then quickly continued.

"Mum, tell Harry that dad's only sleeping! He says he _dead_, mum, and that's not right! Go on, tell him!" Alfred begged. Mrs. Cattermole kept crying into her handkerchief.

"Please, Alfred, just let me talk to you."

"No! You aren't telling the truth! I know what you are!" Alfred's eyes opened wide. "You're a _liar_!"

"Alfred—"

"NO! You're a liar, Harry Potter, a _liar_! Wait until I tell everyone!"

"I'm not a liar, Alfred. I know how you feel; I really do!"

"He's sleeping!"

"He's not."

"_HE IS_!" screamed Alfred. Almost every person in the room went silent and turned to look at him. All that could be heard was the occasional sob, as people were transfixed on the two of them, eager to find out what would happen next. Harry kneeled down, just as he had done before in the halls, and looked Alfred in the eye.

"I'm sorry." But Harry knew that would never be enough.

"You're a liar."

" I'm sorry, Alfred, I really am. I wish he wasn't de—"

"_Liar_," Alfred hissed.

"I wouldn't lie about this."

"Yes you would."

"I wish I was lying." Harry whispered.

For a fraction of a second it looked as if Alfred would argue further. For a fraction of a second it looked as if Alfred would continue claiming that Harry was lying. But the next moment the boy's face crumbled as his defenses fell. He leaned forward and wrapped his little arms around Harry's neck, crying harder than Harry ever thought someone his size and age could cry. Harry's heart broke in two as he awkwardly placed a hand on Alfred's back. They stayed like that for what felt like many minutes, the young child crying onto Harry's shoulder. Finally, Alfred was lifted off the ground from behind by his mother. Harry stood up.

"I really am sorry." He told her, handing Alfred's bear to her. She nodded, unable to speak, and rubbed her hand in circles on her son's back.

And even though it was the last thing Harry wanted to do, he walked past Mrs. Cattermole and her son. His emotions were screaming in protest as he ran his eyes over the lifeless lumps that were once his friends and acquaintances. Towards the back of the room he saw George sitting crossed-legged next to the body of Fred, his face hidden in his hands. Feeling terribly disconnected from himself, Harry stepped over the remains of his companions and worked his way over to George.

"Hey," Harry said, taking a seat on the floor next to George. Fred looked terrible in death. Pathetic, sad, and nowhere need the humorous wizard he had grown to know like a brother.

George didn't answer.

"He wouldn't want anyone to be sad." Harry spoke.

George stayed quiet.

"He was joking around when he died. He went happily."

George was silent.

"I'm sorry, George. I just don't know what to say."

"He was my _twin_." George muttered faintly, rubbing his forehead with his palms. Harry winced when he saw a tear fall into George's lap. "We knew everything about each other. And now—" George waved his hand over Fred's body. He didn't say any more.

"Don't take it too hard." Harry said, giving George a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. George sighed.

"You're just going to make it worse if you stay here." Harry told him. George nodded and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"I can't...I don't want to just..._leave_ him, though..." said George.

"You aren't leaving him. You're leaving his body." Harry said, thinking he sounded rather cheesy. George, on the other hand, gave Harry a small smile and a childish twinkle seemed to apear in his eyes. Though the two encouraging facial expressions only flashed across George's face for a second or so, any sign that he was feeling better made Harry much happier.

"D'you want to go?" Harry questioned.

"Maybe in a minute or two." George answered and shrugged.

"Alright, then." Harry said. He sat there for several moments before George opened his mouth to speak again.

"Yeah, well, on the bright side, there's no doubt that Mum will be able to tell us apart now. She'd have to be seriously mental if she keeps getting mixed up. I mean, honestly, if one is breathing, and missing an ear, and the other is six feet under, you know who's who." George gave a weak laugh. Harry grinned.

"'Ear 'ear" Harry joked, raising an invisible goblet. George snorted.

"You're great Harry, just great." George stood up and Harry followed suit.

"How's Ginny and Ron?" George asked. Harry shrugged.

"Ron's alright, I guess. Ginny's pretty shaken up, though."

"Yeah, well, she has a right to be." said George grimly. "I'm going to go help clean up the castle. I'll see you later, Harry." And George, with a last look at his twin, hopped over the dead bodies and out the door.


	3. Three Things to Tell You

**Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter took a while to get out. The others may take a bit longer for me to post on here, because I still need to write them:O. Again, I'm not going to get on my knees and beg for reviews, but I would really appreciate them. Criticism is alright with me; don't be afraid to correct anything. So try and review, please.**

**Disclaimer: Believe me, if I owned Harry Potter, you'd know about it. I wouldn't hesitate in rubbing it in your faces.**

**Little handy-dandy tips: "Eithne" is pronounced "En-ya". Not sure why. Oh, and I assume that people are able to Apparate and Disapparate in Hogwarts, as it would have been quite difficult for some people to arrive during and after the final battle without being able to do so.**

**EDIT: I changed this chapter a bit so that Harry receives robes (courtesty of Professor McGonagall). I can't seem to imagine him walking around in his pajamas.**

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Harry took his first good look at the room since he had arrived. The windowless walls, made of stone, were a solid, dull, gray, and the little floor visible was an icy white. Dozens upon dozens of silent, unmoving, corpses packed the ground, while sobbing witches and wizards cried over them. Harry's stomach knotted when he saw Colin Creevey's small, lifeless form lying beneath his mother, who was crying violently. Who Harry assumed was Mr. Creevey was placing his hand on his wife's shoulder. Dennis, Colin's younger brother, stood opposite his mother and father, his face pointed down at his tiny shoes. Harry looked away. He found, with great relief, the body of Bellatrix and those of several other Death Eaters grouped in a far corner. Harry noticed that nobody was mourning them.

They certainly didn't deserve it.

Harry felt a small tug on the bottom of his sweatpants. He looked down.

"Harry Potter?" asked Alfred Cattermole, his blue eyes full of tears.

"Yeah, Alfred?"

"I'm sorry for calling you a liar." he whimpered, not releasing his grip on Harry.

"It's fine, really." Harry told him. Alfred didn't look convinced.

"I didn't want to believe you."

"Alfred, I completely understand." Harry remembered when Sirius had fallen through the veil in the Department of Mysteries. Harry didn't believe Lupin when he told him that his godfather wasn't going to emerge back from the archway.

"My dad used to talk about what a good person you were. He never believed others when they said that you were bad." A tear ran down the small boy's cheek. Harry couldn't think of anything to say.

"He's dead now, though…" whispered Alfred.

"Hey, Alfred, it's going to be fine. Look at me; my dad _and_ mum are dead," Harry outstretched his arms, "and look how I turned out!"

Alfred smiled, his eyes on Harry's lightning scar.

Mrs. Cattermole appeared behind Alfred.

"We're going home." Her voice was hoarse and worn. Harry saw that Mr. Cattermole was now wrapped in white cloth, the shadow of his dark hair still visible beneath it.

"Bye, Harry." Alfred squeaked.

"G'bye Alfred. Bye Mrs. Cattermole." Harry waved, sending them both a smile they didn't return. Mrs. Cattermole flourished her wand and the white bundle was sent up into the air. It followed them out of the room.

All the reasons Harry had for staying in the room had left with Mrs. Cattermole's sobs, which became fainter and fainter until you couldn't hear them at all. He didn't want to continue staring at the blank faces of the lost. But Harry couldn't bring himself to step away from the depression that hung on every tear and every voice. Biting his lip, trying desperately to make his legs remember what McGonagall had said, he walked towards Lupin and Tonks. He kneeled in front of them, his heart pounding against his ribs so hard that it hurt. Tonk's hair was a peaceful, quiet shade of lavender. It flowed down to her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face. Lupin lay next to her, his hair graying and his features harshly lined. Harry hungrily took in every detail on the two's faces: the pose of their mouths, the arch of their eyebrows, every beauty mark and every freckle. Lupin no longer resembled a worn, tired, stressed man. Just someone who has been through a lot and was finally getting the rest he deserved. Harry felt his throat sting painfully as the truth wound itself into his mind.

_The last of the marauders had left the world forever._

It was the end of a legend.

"Potter?"

Harry jumped and hastily cleared his throat.

"Yeah?" He turned around. Professor McGonagall had been standing behind him. Her eyes glinted with sympathy as she looked at him.

"Can you join me in my office?" She asked.

"What? Oh, right, sure." Harry stammered. He stood up and straightened his robes. McGonagall turned to walk out.

"Wait, I'll catch up in just a moment, professor." Harry called after her. She turned her head and nodded, and continued out the door. Harry swiveled around to face what was left of Lupin and Tonks. A minute or so later, he departed for Professor McGonagall's room.

But when Harry left, anybody who took the time to carefully look over at the left side of the room would notice that the hands of the werewolf and Metamorphmagus were positioned so that their pale fingers were laced together, combining the two bodies into one, motionless being.

"Sorry, Professor." Harry panted upon stumbling into Professor McGonagall's office. She was seated behind her wooden desk, lazily Transfiguring a textbook into a teacup and back again. He had run to her office. She peered at him from over her square spectacles.

"Have a seat," she offered, waving her wand over one of the two chairs in front of her, which was immediately pulled out for Harry. He did as he was told. He knew something similar to a lecture was about to occur. Harry, quite honestly, wasn't in the mood to hear it.

"I have three things I would like to say to you, Potter." She said. Harry was silent.

"First off, I would like to congratulate you. You have finally gotten rid of the man — no, my mistake, Potter — _thing_ that has plagued your life since the age of one. The world is free from that particular evil for now." McGonagall thin lips twisted into a polite smile.

"Er…thanks." Harry mumbled. He didn't feel like being congratulated.

"Second," McGonagall started again "I want to thank you. Last night you preformed simply spectacular acts of bravery. I'm amazed and astounded, Potter. You are a true Gryff—"

"No." rumbled Harry, as white hot anger began to thrash inside of him. "I'm not. Lupin was brave. Neville was brave. _You_ were brave. I wasn't."

"Harry, you spared your life for everyone. If that isn't courageous, then I have no idea what is."

"I do. Going into the midst of battle, not knowing what will happen to you is brave. Knowing you're going to die, that you _must_ die, isn't an act of bravery. It's an act of comprehension and understanding, not fearlessness." Harry felt his anger build. He tried to control it, but it rose out of him like molten lava.

"But sometimes, Potter, comprehending and understanding is the most heroic, bold, and valiant act of bravery there is." McGonagall urged. Harry balled his fists until he wasn't sure they would ever become uncurled. Why couldn't McGonagall grasp this? Harry wasn't brave; he was simply doing what needed to be done!

"I wasn't brave, all right?" Harry voice was loud now. "I wasn't brave at all! People who fought were brave—"

"But you fought! You dueled with Voldemort, for heavens sake!" McGonagall interrupted.

"SO WHAT?" Harry roared, standing up. His chair toppled over behind him. But he didn't care. He was so angry, so ashamed! He didn't deserve to be treated like a hero. He wasn't one! He was a kid with a scar!

"What do you mean, 'so what'? You're talking nonsense, Potter! Do you realize what you've done?" McGonagall shrieked, getting up from her chair and placing her hands on her desk.

"Yeah, I've realized what I've done! I preformed the Expelliarmus spell!" And before Harry could stop himself, his innermost worries started shooting past his lips.

"DO YOU REALIZE THAT MY _HEROIC ACTS_ ALWAYS HAPPEN TO OCCUR BY CHANCE? DO YOU REALIZE THAT I REALLY HAVE NO CHOICE? THAT IT JUST TURNS OUT THE WAY IT DOES? THAT'S NOT ME DOING ALL OF THAT STUFF! I'M NOT CHOOSING TO BE AT THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME, I JUST _AM_! EVERYTHING I'VE DONE IS BECAUSE OF _LUCK_!" Harry screamed, his voice cracking with strain. McGonagall stared at him for a moment, and then sat back down. Harry turned on his heel to leave.

"You may go now if you wish," McGonagall said softly behind him, reminding him of Dumbledore. Only, Dumbledore wouldn't have let him leave. "But I'm not through with speaking to you yet. I would like to finish."

Harry was halfway to the door, to freedom. He gripped his Invisibility Cloak inside his pocket. If he continued walking he could throw the cloak over himself, and he wouldn't have to be reminded of what a coward he was while walking through the halls, undisturbed and unseen. To his great annoyance, his legs swiveled around and he was looking her straight in the eyes.

"You aren't a coward, Potter." She said simply.

"W-what?" Harry was flabbergasted. She gave him a tiny, most un-McGonagall-like smile.

"Professor Snape wasn't the only one who can perform Legilimency." She informed him. Harry remembered that Snape's body was still in the Shrieking Shack. He would have to go back to retrieve it later.

"Once again, Potter, you are free to leave. Though, I have to admit, it would be a very…_cowardly_ thing to do."

That was all Harry needed to hear. He trudged back to his seat, returning it upright with his wand. He didn't look at McGonagall.

"It's nice to see that you concur." She said calmly. He was feeling the same as he had felt around two years ago, after Sirius had died. If Professor McGonagall's office was crammed with any of the little silver instruments that Dumbledore's was years earlier, then he would surely be hurling them across the room. Harry was shaking with pure fury. He needed to stay, but he wanted out.

"I refuse to let you believe that what you have done was not brave." She leaned forward in her seat and folded her arms onto her desk.

"I'm not—I wasn't—no—_I wasn't brave_!" Harry spluttered. She wouldn't understand! She would never understand the guilt he felt building up inside of him! He wanted to shake sense into this old woman. Make her feel the confusion he felt!

"Oh, Harry…" She sighed. Harry wanted McGonagall to return to the uptight woman she usually was. That way, she would be bustling around the school instead of speaking to him.

"Knowing you, you'd hate to hear this, but Potter, please, stop being so _modest_."

Harry bit his tongue in an attempt to keep himself from yelling again.

"Sacrificing yourself…that's unbelievable…You do realize that, don't you?"

"No!" said Harry hotly. The rage bubbled like mad inside his body. "No! I didn't—Professor—please! Yes, I did give up myself, but I—I accepted it!" When McGonagall didn't say anything, Harry took a deep breath and continued. "I don't have children that need teaching! I don't have a business! _I don't have a son at home who needs parents_!" Ted Lupin swam into Harry's mind. He pushed him out. Now wasn't the time.

"Listen to me, Potter!"

"NO!" Harry had had it. It didn't matter what McGonagall said anymore, she was just being senseless and thick. She couldn't comprehend what he felt—no one could. Was all this pain really worth Voldemort's demise?

He bolted up from his chair. Harry was confident that he would leave this time. He wouldn't listen to what McGonagall had to say, for none of it would make sense to him. After what he had been through, very little of what others said would make sense to him.

His hand was on the door handle.

"And, lastly," He heard McGonagall begin, just as if his announced departure had headed out the door as he would in a few seconds. He suddenly felt her hand on his shoulder. "I am terribly, terribly sorry. You have lost so much."

Harry's knees almost buckled. He swallowed.

"I honestly don't know how you've done it, Potter." She said.

Harry was gripping the door handle so tightly his knuckles were as white as the floor in the morgue.

"Do you want to sit down?" She asked. He fixed his gaze on the dark wood of the door.

"Come on, Potter." She pried his fingers off of the handle he was gripping and turned him around to face the other side of her office. McGonagall ushered him to his seat, not removing her hand from his shoulder.

"Some chocolate?" She offered, hurrying around her desk and searching through her drawers. Harry remembered Lupin. For a fleeting second, the corners of his eyes prickled uncomfortably. He blinked.

She held a piece out to him. Harry took it rather reluctantly.

"Go on, it'll make you feel better. You know the drill." McGonagall winked. Harry lifted the piece to his mouth and took off a bite. He was fairly disappointed to find that the warmth he was expecting didn't flow throughout his body. Actually, except for the split-second heart-flutter, it seemed to be ordinary chocolate. He looked up at McGonagall.

"Better?" She questioned. Harry shook his head.

"Oh, right, very well, then." And then, answering his confused look, added, "It seems, Potter, that you _are_ what this chocolate makes you. Warm and blissful, that is. Your current feelings seem to be…masking those that the sweets intend to make you experience." She sighed and descended into her chair. The rest of the chocolate clutched in Harry's hand had melted before she spoke again.

"Your parents, Albus, Sirius, and Remus, would all be very proud, Potter." She said kindly. Harry chose to gaze down at his chocolate-coated fingers. He tried not to listen to her, but her words seemed to engrave themselves into his mind deeper than they normally would have.

"You've taken their losses very well, I must say." Her words continued cutting into him, like sharp knives spelling out how much he had come to loose.

"And, I say again, I am very sorry."

Harry's throat burned. He tried to ignore it.

"Right," whispered Harry, thinking that if he said something, maybe he would shake off the pain welling inside of him.

"And that, Potter, returning back to my second statement, is bravery in itself. Very few people would have been able to go through what you've been forced to accept."

Harry's eyes now singed, too. He really wished McGonagall would stop talking.

"Potter, I am well aware that you will most likely refuse, but I must ask. I assume this is quite a delicate topic for you. But, please, are you tell me what happened tonight?" Curiosity filled her eyes.

Harry stared determinedly at the ceiling.

"No." He affirmed.

"I won't ask again, today, then. Will I ever know?"

"Probably not,"

"…Was it personal?"

Harry paused before answering.

"Yes."

"I apologize for troubling you, Potter. You can leave now, if you want."

Harry gratefully stood up.

"Goodbye, Professor." he said.

"Wait, Potter, before you go, I've got some spare robes for you. Walking around in sweatpants and an ill-fitting T-shirt gives off the wrong...'vibe'." McGonagall flicked he wand and fresh robes flew out of a closet at the front of the room and wrapped themselves around Harry.

"Thank you." he said. "Bye, then."

"Bye, Harry." And she sent him a small smile before he exited her office.

Harry threw his Invisibility Cloak over him once he stepped into the hall. A group of four middle-aged witches hurried past him, whispering to themselves while they brandished their wands, sending pieces of rubble back into the walls and ceiling.

"…any idea what they were talking about?" hushed the oldest one. Her dark hair was graying at the roots and she was covered in plum-toned robes.

"Apollonia, please, he's going to tell us eventually." said the one in front of her. Harry made a split-second decision to follow them. Apollonia clicked her tongue impatiently.

"Yes, but _when_, Farsiris? Rumor has it that he's awake and about."

"He's probably exhausted. And most everyone is sleeping now. He would explain how he defeated You-Know-Who in front of lots of people, wouldn't he?" The youngest, most lively looking witch chimed in.

"Ixtli is right." confirmed a blonde woman, who stood next to her. She spoke with a thick Irish accent. Ixtli smiled, apparently pleased with herself, and clumsily dropped the piece of stone she was holding up with her wand.

"Eithne! _Watch out_!" screamed Farsiris, pulling her Irish friend out of the way. The rock fell right where Eithne had been standing a moment before and split in two. Apollonia sighed and flew the rock up to the ceiling with a lazy twitch of her wand.

"Ixtli! What were you thinking? You could have hurt her!" Farsiris pushed her black hair out of her face, revealing a pair of large, green eyes.

"Sorry!" Ixtli squeaked, her pale face reddening.

"It's alright, I'm fine! No damage done!" Eithne smiled sweetly at Ixtli. Ixtli grinned back.

"See? She's fine!" Ixtli verified, successfully nestling a boulder smoothly into the wall. Eithne nodded approvingly at Ixtli. Apollonia and Farsiris rolled their eyes.

"No need to play favorites, Ei." Apollonia pointed out.

"She's my cousin!"

Harry, who thought the conversation was growing rather boring, was preparing to separate from them when he heard his name.

"Anyway, as we were saying, that Harry Potter better tell us what's going on." Apollonia said.

"We deserve to know." Farsiris added. Harry felt his stomach churn. He couldn't even tell Professor McGonagall what occurred last night, much less thousands of witches and wizards.

"We should give him time, though." said Eithne.

"Yes, we should. It's only around eleven in the morning." Ixtli agreed.

"Well, I'm simply _dying_ to find out." Farsiris said.

'The Potter boy wasn't making any sense when he was conversing with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. What's this talk about the _Elder Wand_?" Apollonia lifted a fallen picture frame from the floor.

"Thank you!" The painting inside it gushed. Apollonia placed it back on the wall with a small grin.

"I don't think that matters." Ixtli said. She looked at her cousin for approval.

"Good point, Ix. I think what matters is that You-Know-Who is dead." Harry felt a rush of affection for Eithne.

"But _why_ is he dead?" Farsiris intervened.

"Surely you don't want him alive?"

"Oh no, no, of course not!" Farsiris appeared flushed. "No, I mean, he apparently didn't die back when his killing curse first rebounded upon him."

"Didn't Harry Potter mention something about" Eithne lowered her voice. "horcruxes?"

Apollonia looked disgusted. Farsiris looked scared. Ixtli looked confused.

"Horcruxes?" She asked, twirling her hair, blonde, like her cousin's, around her wand.

"You don't know what they are?" Apollonia sniffed arrogantly. Ixtli, appearing embarrassed, didn't respond.

"Don't do that, Ix." Eithne swatted Ixtli's wand out of her yellow locks. "Might burn your hair right off." She paused before speaking again. "A horcrux is the work of a very, very dark wizard. You have to kill in order to make one."

"What does it do, Ei?"

"Well — you see — whenever you commit a murder, it splits your soul, right? Evil wizards use this to their advantage and conceal a part of their split soul in an object. That way, even they die, a part of their soul is still earthbound, and, well, they come back." Eithne's eyes narrowed.

"You don't think—?"

"No, Harry Potter said something about all of them being gone." Eithne assured.

"Oh, right, okay." Ixtli made a fallen door fly back into place. Eithne looked proud.

"We should go." Eithne said to her cousin. "Oh, we'll be back." She promised, answering the perplexed look on Apollonia and Farsiris's faces. "We should reassure our family that we're alive, though. We haven't contacted them yet, and they're probably worried mad. Bye!"

"Bye," Apollonia said waved

"See you," smiled Farsiris.

"C'mon, Ix." Eithne grabbed her cousin's wrist and Disapparated with a loud _crack_. The remaining two witches looked relieved.

"Goodness, I never thought we'd get rid of Ixtli. She's a real nutter." Farsiris shook her head. Harry, deciding he'd had enough, walked off.

Had everyone really expected him to tell them exactly what happened? How could he do that? He had no idea what to tell them. What would he include? What would he leave out? Harry's mind buzzed painfully.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Harry exclaimed. Mrs. Weasley, who stood in front of him, looking tired and worn, sought around frantically. Her wand was out.

"If you're a Death Eater or a dark wizard of any kind, I can take you down! You saw what I did with Bellatrix Lestrange! You — you really don't want to mess with me! Come on out, show yourself, you coward!" She snarled while waving her wand about frantically. Harry found it in himself to smile, as he had forgotten he was hidden by his own Invisibility Cloak.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, it's Harry." He hastily shoved the cloak in his pocket.

"Oh, right, sorry, dear!" She hurried, her face turning pink.

"I have to admit, though, I highly doubt a Death Eater would as respectful as to calling you Mrs. Weasley." Harry lightheartedly admitted.

"I guess you're right, Harry. Was quite—_oh my gosh, you're alive_!" And she ran forward and pulled him into a rib-cracking hug.

"Let the boy breathe, Molly." said a voice. Harry looked over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder to find a balding, thin, tall, redheaded wizard walking towards him.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry pried himself from Mrs. Weasley's grasp and went to shake her husband's hand. Mr. Weasley beamed.

"Harry! Molly hasn't stopped going on about you. Talking about how brave you were and how scared you got her."

Mrs. Weasley blushed.

"Well, dear, I thought you were dead! And then you gave me such a fright when you dueled with You-Kn—I mean, Vold—Voldemort!" She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and smiled.

"You're a brave man, Harry."

Harry thought it was best not to say anything.

Mrs. Weasley gave a little cry and pulled him into another hug.

"Yes," She sniffed, pulling apart after many moments. "Very brave indeed, yes,"

"You two – you guys were brave too." Harry said. Mr. Weasley chuckled and gave him a one-armed hug.

"I'm—er—sorry about Fred." Harry confessed, moving out from beneath Mr. Weasley's arm and standing in front of the couple. Mr. Weasley's grin quickly slipped off his face. Mrs. Weasley attempted to smile, but failed miserably. Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably. They stood in silence for several moments.

"Um…" Harry was desperate for someone to break the silence that had grown between them. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be on the edge of a major breakdown. She was rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, obviously biting back a sob. Her hands took to anxiously straightening her robes and she avoided his gaze. Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, stared straight at him. He appeared to be thinking hard about something, as his already creased brow was wrinkled with thought. Harry felt awkward and out of place.

"Well…I guess I should go…" He said. Mr. Weasley continued staring hard at him. Mrs. Weasley kept smoothing down her robes, her hands working in a blur.

"Bye, then." Harry stepped back, partly just to see if they took any notice. They didn't.

Harry turned around. He heard footsteps and felt a hand on his arm. Mrs. Weasley was fussing with his sleeve.

"Wrinkles…lots of wrinkles in this…Let me just…right…there we go…oh dear, look at your front!" And she began tugging and pulling at the front of his robes.

"…Er…Mrs. Weasley?"

"Just have to…okay…good…oh, no, never mind…there's still some…of these…right…lots of wrinkles, Harry dear…"

Harry looked at Mr. Weasley for help. Mr. Weasley's mind seemed to be somewhere else, though, as he didn't answer Harry's pleading expression. His wife was now kneeling and fixing Harry's pants.

"Mrs. Weasley?"

"My goodness, so many wrinkles! You're a wrinkly mess, you are!"

"Mrs. Weasley, I think I'm good, thanks."

She appeared to not hear him.

"I'm going to make you crease-free!"

"I _am_ crease-free!"

"Not quite, dear." Mrs. Weasley said, moving onto his socks.

"Mrs. Weasley—please—I'm fine now."

"Harry?" He heard someone sniffle.

"Cho?"

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**Like it? No? Well, review if you want. I think I'll be out with the next part in about a week, okay?**


	4. The Abandoned Room

**Sorry this update took disgustingly long, guys. I hope you don't forget the general story line:(. Yeah, so, Cho Chang just walked up to Harry while he was being anti-wrinkled by Mrs. Weasley and all that jazz. Thanks for not abandoning me, hahah. I'm trying to write as fast as I can, but I've been surprisingly busy. Sorry, this chapter _is _a bit short...heh. Don't hurt me:).The next chapter will be out in, oh, I don't know, a week? I'm actually going to try demanding reviews for once…and I'm not very good at it. So…um…please review? Or else?**

**Yes.**

**Or else.**

**Enjoy:D**

**Oh, and sadly, Harry Potter isn't mine. I just write about him. That's really pathetic, isn't it?**

**EDT: OH! Thank you, sairbears, I had no idea that I had that setting disabled! Now people can review without having an account. Yayy:). Thanks for the four reviews everyone, I will be making another chapter. And that makes me happy.**

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Cho Chang stood in front of him, right behind the kneeling Mrs. Weasley. Tears were falling thick and fast down her cheeks and her robes were ripped and singed. At the arrival of Cho, Mr. Weasley seemed to snap back into reality. He lifted his wife off the floor and led her away with a last small smile at Harry. Harry began to wish that they hadn't left when Cho began freely sobbing. 

"M-m-my oba! She's in the h-hospital! S-s-she…s-she might…she m-might…_die_!" Cho howled while Harry's stomach twisted in guilt.

"Oba?"

"My au-aunt, Nami!"

"Oh, er, Cho, I'm sorry. I hope she gets better." Harry said. Cho appeared to not hear him.

"Oba Nami! She used to t-take care o-o-of me when my mum and dad were at work! A-a-and now s-s-she's hurt and injured and they said they didn't know if she'd—" Cho spluttered, shaking uncontrollably. Harry shifted his feet uncomfortably: He wanted to be anywhere else but standing in front of an emotionally unstable Cho Chang.

"Er…I'm sorry about your aunt."

"It was a D-death Eater that did i-i-it!"

"They got a lot of people, Cho."

"But Oba Nami! They n-nearly _killed_ her! They mi-might even!" Cho stumbled to the wall and slid to the floor, her robes making a cloth puddle around her.

Harry didn't know what to do.

"Harry!" she cried, looking up at him.

"What?"

"Y-you aren't e-e-ev-even tr-trying to make m-me _feel_ better!"

She couldn't be serious.

"If you haven't realized, I'm not the best with comforting people about this stuff." said Harry irritably.

"Y-yeah, I remember." Cho said. He could tell she was thinking about her ex-boyfriend Cedric Diggory and Harry's failed attempts to console her about his death.

"Bet you do." spat Harry. Cho put her head in her hands and cried harder. He couldn't believe her. This girl was on the ground _crying_ and _begging_ for _him_ to make _her_ feel better. Did she not realize what _he_ had lost? He knew people who were dead! That had no chance of coming back!

"Look, Cho, I'm sorry about your aunt and everything, but…but I'm going to go." Harry told her, backing away. Cho gave a strangled sort of whimper, shot up from the floor, and looked at him in disgust.

"I thought you were _brave_, Harry. Apparently, though, you aren't brave enough to comfort someone who's just come very close to loosing a relative." She snarled. Cho wiped her face on the sleeves of her ruined robes and stared at him. Harry wanted to hit her.

"It's not _like_ that!" Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Oh yes it is!"

"Shut up, Cho." Harry heard from behind him. He whirled around to see a blotchy-faced, red-haired girl standing with her fingers curled tightly around her wand.

"Ginny?" Harry asked in disbelief. Wasn't she supposed to be in the Gryffindor Tower? Ginny was no longer in her nightgown, but wearing a periwinkle blue tee-shirt with the words "_Weird Sisters_" spread across it, switching from white writing to black every ten seconds or so (which made Harry rather dizzy), a pair of blue jeans, and tattered trainers.

"Can you stay out of this, Ginny?" Cho scowled and stood up a little straighter, reminding Harry of an angry cat.

"Can you go cry somewhere else?"

"Ginny!" Harry warned. Ginny ignored him.

"Don't you—don't you even—_my oba_!"

"Well she's alive, isn't she?"

Cho's cheeks flushed.

"She almost isn't! And I'm not even sure if she'll _stay_ alive!" Tears, once again, swam in Cho's brown eyes. Rage swam in Ginny's.

"Well what are you doing _here_, then? Shouldn't you be with her? You know, if given the opportunity, I would have said goodbye to my brother! But I didn't get the chance! And you _do_ have the chance to say goodbye to your…oba or whatever that is!"

"My aunt!"

"Do I look like I care? Go be with her!" Ginny, looking absolutely infuriated, used her hands to try and shoo Cho off. Cho stayed where she was standing, however. Harry looked from Ginny to Cho, clutching his wand in his pocket just in case

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"I shouldn't be talking to you at all! You should be with your aunt!"

"I don't think it's up to you to decide where I should be and who I should be with!"

"It's called common sense!"

"It's called my own decision!"

Ginny let out a cry of frustration.

"You don't get it, do you?"

"Get _what_?"

"People would _do anything_ to be in your position!"

"_My position_?" Cho shrieked. "_My position_? My oba might die! And people would like to be in _my position_?"

"Yes." said Ginny curtly. "You still have time…you can still see her…you can say goodbye if you need to."

"I came here to help repair Hogwarts! I'm trying to do something good! _Don't look at me like that_!"

Ginny's face was contorted with anger and disgust.

"If you want to do something good," she muttered fiercely "then why don't you go be with your aunt?"

Cho's face crumbled.

"B-b-because I c-can't stand t-t-to see her like…like…_th-that_!" Cho bawled. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Ginny, maybe it'd be best just to—" Harry began, placing his hand on Ginny's shoulder.

"_No_, Harry! I'm not letting someone have the same regrets I have!"

"Regrets? Ginny, there's no way you could have known—"

"But still! I could have fought with him! I could have _been_ there!" Ginny moaned, clearly distraught.

"Ginny—"

"Be quiet, Harry." she whispered softly, staring at her feet. Her words hit Harry like knives. Ginny turned away from him.

"Go be with your aunt, Cho." She said.

"Don't tell me what to d-d-do!"

"Don't be ridiculous! I can't believe you're just _standing_ there!"

"I'll stand where I want!" Cho appeared to be trying terribly hard to compose herself.

"Don't be stupid! Just go!"

"_Shut up_!" Cho screamed. Her face was turning a dark shade of purple and her lips were white.

"Now you're just not going so you can prove me wrong! _You're so immature_!" Ginny bellowed.

"I said SHUT UP!"

Harry decided that it was time to interfere. He attempted to stand between them, but was shoved out of the way by Ginny. As an alternative, he stood to the side of them with his wand raised.

"Don't start anything." He said sternly. The girls ignored him.

"You disgust me!" Ginny fought. Cho looked murderous.

"At least I don't go butting into other people's lives!"

"At least I care about my family!"

"_What are you talking about_?" Cho yelled.

"If you cared about your aunt, you'd be with her!"

"I told you, I don't want to see her the way she is!"

"If I had the chance to be with a dying relative, I would certainly take it!"

"Well you aren't me!"

"Thank God! I don't think I could handle being that dense!"

"Ginny!" Harry cautioned. Ginny, once again, disregarded his comment.

"You're terrible!" Cho shouted.

"You don't get it, do you?"

Cho didn't say anything.

"If given the chance, I would have done _anything_ to be with a dying family member! You don't realize what you have until you've lost it!"

"Cedric—"

"Cedric Diggory was your _boyfriend_, am I correct?"

"Yes." Cho answered, fuming.

"Well, we aren't talking about boyfriends, here! We're talking about people who are _related_ to you by _blood_! Though I'm sure that you were very sad about what happened to Cedric, you just can't compare the two!"

This seemed to deeply offend Cho. Harry felt his stomach tighten at Ginny's words, but he wasn't sure why.

"Get away from me, Ginny Weasley! _Just get away_!" Cho cried.

"You get away from me first!" Ginny crossed her arms. Cho let out a scream and whipped out her wand. Ginny mimicked her motion. Harry, momentarily forgetting that he had a wand too, jumped between them again. Ginny tried to push him away but he held his ground.

"Don't do anything stupid." Harry told them.

"Harry, are you aware that the girl in front of me is refusing to be with her gravely injured aunt? She _is_ something stupid"

"Consider this to be Oba Nami's dying wish, then!" Cho said, and before Harry could stop her, she roared "_Stupefy_!" and sent a red beam of light over Harry's shoulder. It struck Ginny on the forehead and she flew back to the ground, unconscious. Anger and hatred filled every inch of Harry's body, making his skin hot and his head dizzy.

"You repulsive little—" Harry roared, spinning to face Cho. "How _dare you_?" He continued, his heart pounding, wanting to make Cho hurt in every way possible. Harry had to hold himself back from hexing her into the next century. Cho, panting, stared at the knocked-out Ginny. He'd make her sorry for hurting Ginny. The monster in his chest (who had mysteriously been hibernating for the past year) howled in approval when he pointed his wand at Cho and screamed,

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

But Cho had dodged the curse and ran off down the corridor. The spell itself hit the wall that was positioned behind where she was standing a moment before and created a small puncture hole. But he took almost no notice of it.

"CHO CHANG! _Get back here_!" He shouted after her, ready to hex her into a flobberworm. Much to his disappointment, though, he heard a loud "_crack_" in the distance, and knew that Cho was no longer at Hogwarts.

Cursing under his breath, he returned to Ginny.

"_Ennervate_!" Harry said, pointing his wand at her unconscious form. Ginny's eyelids flickered open and she groaned loudly.

"That foul, vulgar, pathetic excuse for a person!" Ginny sat up and cradled her left wrist, which, as Harry noticed, was set at an odd angle. Harry knelt beside her.

"I'd fix that if I wasn't afraid of going all Lockhart on you." He told her. Ginny, who had heard the story about how Harry had all the bones in his right arm removed by an inept teacher, told numerous times by Fred and George, laughed weakly.

"Get me my wand, will you? I need to go kill that Cho girl."

"Don't bother, she already Disapparated." Harry said, pointing his wand at hers, which lay several feet away from the two of them, and muttered "_Accio Ginny's wand_!" He caught it as it flew towards him, and handed it to Ginny.

"Thanks. Maybe now she'll go see her aunt." she reasoned.

"Yeah, I s'pose so."

"You don't think I should have been so hard on her?" Ginny asked, reading his expression. Even though he was furious at Cho for hurting Ginny, he couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for her. Ginny seemed to be awfully blunt about Cho's ignorance.

"I don't know, I just think that maybe she didn't really realize…" He said. Ginny looked unfazed.

"Yeah, I guess I was acting on a sort of 'tough love' thing. I didn't want her to have any regrets. Plus, I really just don't like her. Never have, after what her stupid friend did to Dumbledore's Army."

Harry vaguely wondered if she was telling the truth, or if Ginny had started disliking Cho after Harry asked her to the Yule Ball.

"After what she did—stunning you—I tried to get her with the Full Body-Bind Curse—but she dodged it. Blew up the wall." Harry said, nodding towards the destroyed wall. Ginny gasped.

"Wha—"

"Oh—my—_God_—Harry—look!" She pointed at the wall with her right hand, her mouth agape. Harry turned to the hole.

"Blimey!" He exclaimed. Beyond the opening in the wall lay what looked like…a room? Harry moved forward and pressed his face into the hole.

Yes. That was definitely a room.

"How'd that _get_ there?" Ginny asked, crawling next to him. Harry felt his stomach jump as her shoulder brushed against his.

"Dunno. There're no doors or anything…"

The floor of the room was dotted with some dirt and hay, and Harry could see two chains draping from the dusty ceiling connected to a plank of wood, obviously set up to be something to sit on. The room was dimly lit with a few candles floating next to the wall. Something caught Harry's eye in the far left corner…

"What's that?" Ginny poked her finger through the opening and directed it towards where Harry was looking.

"Not sure. Move your hand over a bit, Gin, I can't quite—"

"Hippogriff!" Ginny breathed.

"What?"

"It's one of Hagrid's Hippogriffs, Harry!"

A pair of orange eyes blinked in the distance.

"Bloody hell, it is!" Harry said, aghast. What in the world was a Hippogriff doing in this ignored, entrance-less room?

"What in the name of Merlin is _that_ doing there?" Ginny asked.

"Exactly what I was going to say." Harry squinted at the creature. The Hippogriff was lying down in a pile of dirt, snapping its beak lazily, obviously barely awake. It was an inky-black, and Harry recognized it as one that he had seen in his third year.

"We've got to get in." Ginny pulled away from the hole.

"Wait—what?"

"We've got to get in—ouch—and help it out." Ginny winced as she accidentally banged her broken wrist against the wall.

"Gin, don't you think we should get Hagrid to do it?" Harry said, not feeling up to dealing with a Hippogriff at the moment.

"Honestly Harry, you've just destroyed Voldemort, don't you think you can deal with a Hippogriff?"

"Well," said Harry, feeling himself go red "not exactly."

Ginny smirked and took his hand. A pleasant shiver shot down his spine.

"Come on," she urged. How could he say no?

"All right," Harry grumbled. Ginny beamed and let go of his hand. He felt his heart deflate a little when she did.

"_Silencio_!" Ginny said while tapping the wall with her wand.

"Doesn't that only work on living things?" asked Harry. Ginny smiled, not taking her eyes off the wall.

"Well, we'll just have to find out, won't we? Stand back, Harry." she said. Harry did as he was told to.

"_Reducto_!" The spell hit the stone surrounding the hole and blasted it to pieces. But if Harry wasn't looking, there would be no way he would have known. The explosion was silent.

"Ha!" Ginny cheered. Harry grinned at her enthusiasm. She put her wand in her pocket and pushed her long mane of straight, red hair out of her face.

"Shouldn't we do something about your wrist before going in?" Harry asked, noticing how her left arm was lying ignored at her side, quite useless.

"It's a bit late now." She smirked at him and her light brown eyes twinkled. "Anyway, Madam Pomfrey is really busy now. All the people that aren't injured enough to go to St. Mungo's are with her, so I guess I'll let her have a break."

Harry knew there was no use arguing, and he followed her into the room. The Hippogriff became aware of their presence and stood up, clicking its beak defensively.

"Bow to it," he advised Ginny, but she was already ahead of him. She was hunched over; her face turned up to the black half-eagle, half-horse creature. The beast seemed unsure of whether or not to accept her respectful actions. Harry, who was standing back so he wouldn't confuse it, held is wand at his side, ready to use it if needed. The Hippogriff stared at Ginny for a moment or two, and then batted its enormous, feathered wings and sunk into a bow. Ginny, who was grinning ear-to-ear, strolled forward and gently patted the Hippogriff.

"Your turn," She said, twirling around to face Harry. He bowed to the Hippogriff, being careful to keep constant eye contact. The Hippogriff, who seemed too tired to put up a fight, bowed reluctantly. Harry walked to it and stroked its neck. Ginny walked to the other side of the beast, glanced at the ground, and managed to stifle a scream.

"What?" Harry asked, taking his hand off the black Hippogriff.

"Look, Harry, look! Come here!" she urged. Harry could see Ginny was trying very hard to keep her voice down. Harry walked next to Ginny and spotted, right next to the Hippogriff's rear, right leg, a shiny, fragile, moss-green…_egg_!

"Blimey!" Harry exclaimed. The Hippogriff, realizing that they noticed her egg, rounded on them, snapping her beak and raising her wings threateningly.

"Get away!" Harry ushered Ginny out of the hole in the wall and out into the corridor.

"It's an egg!" Ginny gushed once they were out. Her face, before blotchy and sad, was now glowing with excitement.

"Yeah, I know, but listen; I think we should get Hagrid."

"Why?" Ginny inquired, trying to peer over Harry's shoulder to get a view of the room.

"I'm not sure just how protective Hippogriffs can get over their eggs." Harry said.

"But we just got over there—"

"No, Ginny, the Hippogriff didn't know that we knew about her egg. You saw how she got when we saw it! We should get Hagrid." said Harry. Ginny let out a loud sigh.

"You're no fun, Harry." she teased. Harry didn't smile.

"I'm serious, Ginny. Come on, we'll go get Hagrid."

"Need ter get me for wha'?" Harry heard someone grunt.

"Hagrid!" Harry and Ginny screamed. Hagrid looked at them and beamed, his smile showing through his large, black, messy beard. He was sliced and dirty, but jubilant nontheless. He made a motion as if he was about to lunge forward and engulf Harry and Ginny in a bone-crushing hug, but promptly burst into tears instead.

"_Harry_!" Hagrid buried his face into his tablecloth-sized handkerchief and cried animatedly into it. Harry nervously looked at Ginny; she also seemed to be unsure of what to do about Hagrid's sudden outburst.

"Yer—yer—yer alive! I keep—telling m-myself—tha'—but I'm afraid—I don' know! It's…it's like—I'm gonna wake up—and yer not gonna—be—_here_!" Hagrid roared between great sobs. Harry watched as Ginny cast a silent charm on the hole in the wall—no doubt making sure that the Hippogriff wouldn't be startled by Hagrid's bawling.

"Well…er…I _am_ alive, Hagrid." Harry smiled at the half-giant. Hagrid just cried louder.

"Um, Hagrid?" Ginny began. Hagrid acknowledged her voice by lifting his head a little. Ginny continued.

"I know this probably isn't the best time, of course, but…well, Harry and I found something…s… that we would like to show you…we really aren't sure of what to do…"

Hagrid's tears abruptly stopped. Sniffling, he shoved his handkerchief into his moleskin coat and gave Ginny a small, watery smile.

"You foun' Sauda, did you?"

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**Ohh, a cliff-hanger…sort of! Well, I've thought it over, and I decided that a mere four reviews would be a decent number for me to continue the series. Please, do the reviews, because I really like writing these stories:D**


	5. When a life is lost, another begins

**I'm really sorry guys, I know this chapter took FOREVER. My bad:)**

**Everything has suddenly gotten extremely busy. I know this chapter isn't long, but it'll do. Thanks for all the fabulous reviews, they always make me all happy and bubbly inside. In fact, so happy and bubbly, I'm going to request another four reviews in order to continue.**

**Gosh, it really makes me feel evil inside when I do that.**

**Heh:)**

**Right, so, I hope you like. Hagrid's accent always confuses the hell out of me, so I'm really sorry if I screwed it up.**

**I hope you guys like the chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: If I was Rowling, I'd know how to talk like Hagrid. I'm not her, and all the characters except Sauda and her itty bitty baby belong to her.**

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"…Erm…Sauda?" Harry interjected. 

"Hippogriff, righ'? Dumbledore named 'er. Sauda's Arabic fer black an' love or somethin', an' since she's black, he thought it'd be appropriate. Personally I wanted ter go with 'Doris', but Dumbledore insisted. How's her egg?"

Harry and Ginny looked at each other. Harry knew she was thinking the same thing.

_Doris_? For a _Hippogriff_?

"Her egg's fine." Ginny said, making Hagrid look relieved.

"There's the opening to the room she's in over there." Harry pointed to the large gaping hole a few feet down the corridor.

"How'd you two find her?" asked Hagrid, who walked over to the entrance into Sauda's room and peered inside it.

"Er…There was just a small hole there…and Ginny noticed something inside and then we blew it up to get in there." Harry thought it was best to bend the story a bit. Hagrid, accepting the explanation, signaled for Harry and Ginny to follow him inside. Hagrid met an invisible barrier and Ginny, looking slightly embarrassed as Hagrid stumbled, quickly undid her Imperturbable Charm.

"There she is!" Hagrid cheered upon entering while Harry replaced the hole in the wall, sealing them in. Hagrid bowed to Sauda, and she seemed quick to let him approach her. When it came time for Harry and Ginny to gain Sauda's approval, however, she clicked her beak angrily and reared on her back legs. Harry instinctually grabbed for Ginny's right hand and attempted to pull her away.

"Stand back!" Hagrid yelled across the room. Harry and Ginny pressed themselves against the wall behind them. Hagrid began softly speaking to Sauda, obviously attempting to convince her to accept Harry and Ginny. Harry was able to catch bits of what Hagrid was cooing. Words like "Saudy" and "little, lovely eggy" reached his ears. Hagrid always seemed to regard dangerous creatures as something cute and innocent. Harry still hadn't forgotten Fluffy, the giant three-headed dog of Hagrid's that tried to devour anyone that went near it without a musical instrument. Ginny managed to turn a giggle into a hacking cough when Hagrid said something that sounded an awful lot like "GinGin and HarHar".

"Alrigh'," Hagrid eventually called to them, "Bow again!"

Harry stepped forward and bowed, careful to keep eye contact with Sauda. She tilted her large, feathered head to the side, apparently considering what Hagrid had told her. His already aching back had begun to shoot sharp bolts of pain down his spine before Sauda bent her knees and allowed him to approach her. Ginny followed a few moments later, her red hair bouncing behind her as she walked up to the Hippogriff and patted her on the beak with her good hand.

"Now we get ter check on her egg; make sure it's doin' alrigh'." said Hagrid cheerfully. Harry nodded apprehensively: He couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. Sauda looked quite menacing, standing there with her black wings and piercing, orange eyes.

"Saudy, we're gonna take a look at your egg." Hagrid told Sauda, throwing her a dead ferret from one of his many large pockets. She glanced at Harry and Ginny before lying down and tearing into her treat.

"Hippgriff eggs are fragile, you see." Hagrid grunted and bent down to inspect the dark green egg, which was perched on a small pile of hay and earth. "They hatch 'bout a day after they're laid. I put her in here—"

"Wait—you put Sauda in here, Hagrid?" Harry interrupted. He felt himself go slightly red when he spotted Ginny rolling her eyes.

"Well, actually, since me wand's snapped an' everythin', I got Professor Grubbly-Plank ter move Saudy in here. She filled in fer me while I was…yer know…on the run, by the way. She reckons that Sauda laid her egg at around two in the afternoon yesterday, so hopefully it should be hatchin' soon!" Hagrid beamed and proudly stuck out his chest, sounding as if he had laid the egg instead of Sauda. He picked up the large, green, oval shell, and, as if handling an extremely delicate and valuable glass antique, he turned it in his large, callused hands.

"Seems fine!" Hagrid placed the egg back onto the ground and turned to Sauda, who was now swallowing the skeleton of the ferret. He threw her another carcass and took to watching her hungrily pick it apart.

"What is this place, Hagrid?" Harry asked, taking in his surroundings. The ceiling of the room was high and seemed to fade into the darkness, while the walls were built of a rusty red stone that Harry didn't recognize.

"Jus' a room, really." Hagrid said, quite simply.

"Where'd the doors go?" Ginny traced a crack in the wall with her fingers.

"Not sure. Always bin like this." answered Hagrid.

"How'd you find out about the room? I mean, if it has no doors…?" Harry walked to the other side of the room and sat on the plank of wood chained to the ceiling.

"Dumbledore told me abou' it when I told him tha' I needed a place for one of them sick thestrals to res' a few years back. Handy little room, righ'?"

Harry nodded and absentmindedly began rocking back and forth on his seat. It was a very interesting room, but obviously nothing more than that. With the lack of conversation, Harry's mind wandered to memories of the battle. He could still faintly hear screams and shouts of terror and pain of that night echoing in his ears. And just when the terrible feeling of dread returned to him, the recollection of the triumphant roars of what felt like every living wizard and witch, and even a handful of Muggles, on the earth penetrated his mind, making him light and happy, cheerful…

He had no idea how long he had been sitting there, just basking in the glory of those wonderful shouts, before he heard Ginny squeak "Hagrid! Harry! The egg—it's hatching!"

And so it was. Harry kneeled down beneath the large, cracking shell between Ginny and the clearly excited Hippogriff. Hagrid stooped across from him, smiling a smile larger than Harry had seen on his face for over a year. They stayed that way, watching the tiny Hippogriff inside the egg try and get its head out, for possibly half an hour, but Harry didn't mind. It was as if this new life would make up for one lost. It was a new beginning. Another try at a long, fulfilling existence.

Hagrid gave a hearty squeal of joy when the baby Hippogriff finally managed to peck away a good section of shell and poke its head out. Sauda clicked her beak happily at the sight of her young. She bent her large, eagle head down and began ripping shreds off of the egg, freeing her offspring. A few moments later, a damp, fully feathered and furred, orange-eyed Hippogriff baby squirmed on the ground.

Hagrid, who didn't have enough time to pull out his handkerchief, bawled freely into his hands, yelling "IT'S A B-BOY! IT-IT'S A _BOY_!" between sobs. The Hippogriff was about the size of a small dog, and was jet black, like his mother. Harry spotted talons, though tiny and proportionate to the rest of the Hippogriff, they looked as if they would definitely hurt if they made contact with skin. The baby's piercing orange eyes were as vivid as his mother's, but Harry noticed something quite odd…

"Are those gray feathers?" Harry leaned closer to the little Hippogriff (which was rather difficult considering that Sauda was now fussing over him) to get a better look.

"Hagrid," Ginny said, smiling, "those _are_ gray feathers. And look at his underbelly, you can see some gray hair. Do you…do you think that this Hippogriff is _Buckbeak_'s?"

"'Spose it's a possibility." said Hagrid thickly while wiping his nose on the sleeve of his coat. "I wouldn't know, I can't keep tabs on _tha'_ stuff."

The baby Hippogriff began its attempt to struggle to its feet. His mother nuzzled his neck affectionately as he stumbled and fell. Ginny was occasionally emitting a soft "aw!" and Hagrid cried "I know, I know! He's beautiful!" every time she did so.

"Well," said Harry once the Hippogriff had managed to stand without its knees buckling, "what's his name going to be?"

"Philbert!" exclaimed Hagrid. Harry caught Ginny's eye and she turned away, smiling.

"Hagrid…I don't mean to sound rude, but…you see, Ginny and I…well, we won't allow you to name another creature in your life." Harry confessed.

Ginny burst into a fit of giggles and Hagrid's beard twitched.

"Why's tha'?"

"_Philbert_?" Ginny choked.

"You got anythin' better?"

"Lots." Harry answered, grinning.

"Like wha'?" Hagrid smiled at the tiny Hippogriff as he attempted to eat his mother's ferret scraps.

"I like Kerwin." Ginny put in.

"Well, I dunno." Harry said.

"Yer choice, Harry. Today's _yer_ day." Hagrid reached across the space between them and squeezed Harry's shoulder.

"Er…Ginny, what was that name you said?" Harry turned to her.

"Kerwin!"

"I think that's a good name."

"Then Kerwin it is, righ'?" Hagrid asked.

"Right." Harry confirmed.

With a squawk, little Kerwin collapsed underneath his mother's wing.

"Wha' are you two doin' awake, anyway? You shoul' be sleepin'! We have other people ter fix up the school, you shouldn't be helpin'."

"We couldn't sleep." said Harry. Hagrid snorted.

"Righ', righ'. You couldn't sleep after battling bloodthirsty Death Eaters for an entire nigh'."

"It's true!" Ginny said.

"Do me a favor, and go eat somthin', or go ter yer dormitories and get a good rest. You deserve it." Hagrid stood up and pulled an old, flowery, pink umbrella from one of his pockets and pointed it at the wall that the three entered through, which exploded to create a hole to exit out of. Hagrid gently pushed them into the corridor, ignoring their frantic protests. He winked at Harry before disappearing behind a wall of stone. Harry's eyes lingered on the spot where Hagrid's smile had been moments before.

"Are you hungry?" Ginny asked.

"Not really, no." said Harry, remembering Kreacher's sandwiches and pints of pumpkin juice before he had fallen asleep.

"Me neither."

Harry nodded. They were walking back to the Gryffindor Tower, he noticed. Wizards and witches past him every now and then, usually in pairs, whispering eagerly as they did so, but Harry refused to look at them. The bloodstains splattered on the wall and floor seemed more prominent all of the sudden and he found himself wondering if any of them had belonged to Lupin.

"_Harry_!" cried a familiar voice as he and Ginny rounded a corner. Harry nearly swallowed a mouthful of brown, bushy hair as Hermione flung herself at him.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she gasped, pulling out of the embrace. Hermione grabbed his shoulders and forced him to stand directly in front of her.

"I think I'll leave you two alone. I should get my wrist fixed, anyway." Ginny smiled and continued walking. Harry turned his head and watched her until she was just a small red dot moving up a staircase in the distance.

"I have no idea what I was doing, Harry!" Hermione was half sobbing. "I shouldn't have _done_ that!"

"'S alright." Harry mumbled. "You were just protecting Ginny."

"No, it _isn't_ alright! You were completely and absolutely correct! You've been through so much and I shouldn't have exploded like that! I'm so sorry, Harry!"

"It's fine, Hermione, really. I should've let Ginny rest." Harry told her, but she didn't listen.

"I was _stupid_! You obviously wanted to see Ginny and I should have let you!" Hermione let go of Harry and flailed her arms in the air.

"Hermione! Relax, it's okay, really! You were under a lot of stress."

"It's just…I had to sit next to her for hours watching her _cry_, and when she fell asleep, I thought that she was finally getting some peace! But I was so _wrong_! She _wanted_ to see you! She kept asking me when you'd wake up and everything! I'm sorry, Harry, really, really sorry!" Hermione hugged him again.

Harry grinned at her.

"You must be hungry. Why don't you go into the Great Hall and get something to eat?" he said. Hermione sniffled.

"Yeah…yeah, I guess I will. Ron headed down there a while ago. I think I'll go join him." Then she gave a soft chuckle "He'll still be there. Ron can eat for days. 'Bye, Harry." Hermione turned and walked down the corridor.

Harry sighed. Girls could be extremely confusing.

* * *

**Remember, four reviews:). Oh, and incase you were wondering:**

"**The meaning of the name ****Sauda** **is ****Black; Love**

**The origin of the name ****Sauda** **is Arabic"**

**-_Babynamesdotcom_**

**"Kerwin- (Irish) little; dark…"**

**-"****_The Very Best Baby Names_****" by Bruce Lansky**

**Yay! The names have actual meanings!**


	6. You're Welcome

'**Supp, guys? I decided that even though I got only three reviews, I'm still going to make another chapter, because quite honestly, there wasn't much to say about Chapter Five. I'll request three (3) reviews for this chapter, also, considering that it's not an uber important one:**

**The next chapter is rumored to be completely and utterly awesome, but I wouldn't know since I haven't gotten around to writing it yet.**

**And that brings me to my next topic: The next chapter will be out in a week or two because I haven't written it. But I'm really excited to, so maybe I'll get through it faster, I don't know.**

**Anywho, I hope you like this chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: (rowling) Hey guys, I'm J.K. Rowling, I'm richer than the Queen of England, I've single-handedly created the most popular book(s) since the Bible, I have mad writing skills, and yet I'm chilling at FanFiction websites (/rowling) **

**I'm not her. H to the P and all his bfflz belong to Rowling and only Rowling, and I'm just borrowing them. kthnxbi**

* * *

So where was Harry to go now? The long stretches of corridors intimidated him and seemed to mock his desire to reach somewhere, _anywhere_, fast. Should he travel out to the grounds? Maybe sit beside the lake and think… That'd be a good thing to do. Just rest for a while; sort out his thoughts. Maybe he'd sit beneath the tree where James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew had relaxed under so many years ago... 

"Mummy, look, it's him! It's Harry Potter!"

Harry turned his head. A little girl with lengthy, stringy white-blonde hair was pointing at him with one hand, the other busy clutching onto her mother's wrist.

"Tamah! Don't point, that's rude!" Her mother hushed. She was a short, slightly plump woman with a wrinkled face, and she gave off a definite air of motherliness.

"But Mummy, it's Harry Potter! You see him, don't you?"

"I'm so sorry," Tamah's mother spoke to Harry. "She hasn't stopped talking about you ever since her grandfather told her what had happened."

"My grandmummy fought! Did you know that, Harry Potter?" Tamah smiled wide, showing off a gap where one of her front teeth should have been. She tugged on her mother's hand, trying to get away to go closer to Harry. Her mother kept a firm grip.

"No, Tammy, no." Her mother cast a worried glance at Harry.

"That's why I'm here, Harry Potter! To see my grandmummy!" Tamah jerked her hand harder still, making the hem of her pale yellow dress dance around her skinny calves.

"Tamah!"

"She's fine, though! I know she is because my granddaddy, who _also_ fought, came to my house and told me she was! She just can't go back to her cottage yet because her leg is broken. But that's alright! The healers here can fix that really quickly, Granddaddy said so!"

"Well, you seem to have very brave grandparents." Harry tried to grin, but he wasn't sure that little Tamah understood how much it meant to him that her family was safe and whole. Still, he was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable. Tamah didn't seem to blink as much as other people did. Her brown eyes were as piercing as razors and, at the moment, were ballooned up with interest and enthusiasm.

"I know I do!" Tamah said proudly. "Mum, let me _go_!" She finally managed to wrench her hand from her mother's grasp and ran towards Harry. Tamah stared up at him, still smiling wildly. Harry, with a terrible pang in his chest, thought of Colin Creevey.

"Tamah Tatiana! Get _back_ here!" Her mother scolded, trying to pull her daughter away from Harry, who was now absent-mindedly backing into the wall.

"Mummy! Please! Just let me get _close_ to him! Did you hear Granddaddy when he said that everyone wanted to touch Harry Potter after he killed You-Know-Who? And I just want to be _near_ him! I don't need to lay a finger on him! See?" Tamah, as if proving a point, hovered her hand in front of Harry's chest (which was the highest she could reach) almost, but without, grazing his robes.

"Tamah!"

"It's okay, Mrs…"

"Oh, dear, please call me Arabella! And no, it isn't okay. My daughter does not _act_ this disrespectful! Isn't that right, Tamah?" Arabella successfully pulled her child away from Harry. Tamah frowned and crossed her arms, eyeing her mother furiously. She didn't answer.

"I _said_, 'Isn't that right, Tamah?'"

Tamah mumbled something incoherent.

"I can't hear you…"

"Yes, that's right." Tamah whispered, her blonde hair plunging like a waterfall in front of her reddening face.

"Now say sorry to Harry Potter for being so rude."

"Sorry to Harry Potter for being so rude."

"_Tamah_!"

Tamah sighed.

"Sorry Harry Potter."

"Oh, that's—it's alright." Harry stuttered. Tamah stared contently at her shoes.

"Anyway, it was very nice to meet you, Mr. Potter." Arabella said

"Yeah, it was nice to meet you two too." Harry flourished a little wave goodbye and turned to walk down the corridor.

Arabella smiled sweetly and began to pull Tamah away.

"_No_!_ No_! NO! _NO_! STOP!" Tamah shrieked. Harry jumped slightly at the outburst, and spun around to face a very distraught Tamah. Her hair was pushed back now, and her face was quickly changing from an embarrassed red to a furious purple.

"Tammy!" Arabella tugged on her screaming child, trying to get her to move down the corridor. Tamah refused to corporate. She was kicking, slapping, and biting her mother, obviously desperate to do anything to dislodge herself from her mother's clutching hands. Harry stopped and stared, unsure of what to do.

"Tamah, _what's wrong_?" Arabella struggled to gain control of a thrashing Tamah.

"You're—taking—me—away—from—him!" Tamah cried. Tears were now running like rainfall down her face. Harry was frantically wondering what caused this little girl to act violently. Minutes passed in struggle, with Harry backed up against the wall, dumbfounded. Tamah eventually collapsed to the ground in an effort to escape her mother's arms, Arabella stopped wrestling, and all that could be heard were Tamah's high-pitched sobs.

"Er—Tamah?" Harry began uneasily. The child stopped screaming immediately and looked up at him, sniffling. Harry cleared his throat.

"I'm…er, I'm sure your mother means well. Don't you want to see your grandmother?" Harry, just like he did for Alfred Cattermole, kneeled down beside Tamah. She sniffled again.

"Y-yes. But Harry Potter, you don't understand!"

"What don't I understand?" asked Harry quietly. Arabella backed into the wall behind her, a hint of a smile lingering on her kind face.

"She didn't give me a chance…" Tamah choked up again. Harry looked up at her mother standing across from him for guidance. She shrugged and looked at her daughter, a tiny grin still playing with her lips.

"Your mother? She didn't give you a chance for what?" Harry asked. Tamah covered her face with her hands and cried harder.

"Tamah?"

"I w-w-wanted to say…to s-say _thank you_!" she sobbed. Harry leaned closer to Tamah, shut his eyes, and took a deep breath.

"For what?" he whispered.

"M-my uncle Raymond is a M-muggle. And Auntie Beatrice is-is Muggle-born." Tamah cried. "With…without you, th-they would have had to l-live the rest of th-their lives in hiding! You finally g-got rid of Y-You-You-Know-Who!" She pushed her hair away from her face and looked Harry in the eye. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

There was an excited exclamation as Arabella ran forward, pushed Harry aside, and wrapped her arms around Tamah. Harry was strangely reminded of Aunt Petunia.

"Did you hear that? Did you? Oh! My Tammy is _polite_!" Arabella cheered. Harry stood up rather uneasily, having just been toppled over by an over exuberant mother. His respect for Arabella had faltered somewhat, though he still grinned slightly as she rocked back and forth on the spot, hugging her bewildered daughter.

"Mummy, geroff me!" Tamah complained. Harry, now rubbing a sore spot on his elbow, saw her eyes twinkle with delight, despite her seemingly sour attitude.

"We're off to see your Grandmummy!" Arabella announced a moment later, releasing her daughter and taking her by the hand. "Goodbye, Mr. Potter!" Arabella called, already bouncing down the hall with Tamah in tow.

"'Bye!" Harry said, raising his hand in farewell.

"Wait!" Tamah shouted when she was halfway down the corridor. "Wait! Mummy, wait!"

Tamah bolted back to Harry, and, grinning wildly, stood up on her tip-toes to hug his waist. Harry, unable to think of anything else to do, ruffled her hair affectionately. Tamah looked delighted.

"G'bye, Harry Potter!" she said after letting go of him. Harry smiled down at her.

"'Bye, Tamah. And, well, I forgot to say…" Harry bent down slightly and whispered in her ear, "_You're welcome_."

Speechless with joy, Tamah simply beamed harder and skipped to her mother, her pale blonde hair swishing down her back as she went.

-------

Harry felt slightly more content now as he sat beside the lake. The sky above the mass of water was growing vaguely pink, and cotton-candy clouds drifted lazily across it. For the past half hour, Harry hadn't been thinking at all. It was a wonderful feeling to be completely unaware, almost as pleasing as dreamless sleep. He was just relaxing and listening to the wind trickle through the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and the water in the lake lap upon the shore. There was a slight chill to the air that made Harry shiver every now and then, but the atmosphere otherwise marked signs of a warm summer approaching. The grounds were still in terrible shape, Harry noticed, with rubble and dried blood strewn carelessly across them. Hogwarts looked the same as it always had from his angle, except for the occasional broken window and missing stone.

He heard footsteps.

This was normal, of course, as wizards were still busy cleaning the grounds. But these footsteps were closer than the others (no one yet seemed to have the indignity to approach him while he was finally resting), lighter, and more carefree, tapping out an unsystematic rhythm on the grass.

"Hey," Ginny soon stood above him, smiling faintly.

"Hi," Harry sat up a little straighter.

"How are you?" Ginny asked.

"I'm not quite sure how I am, to tell you the truth. How about you sit down with me?" Harry, hoping he didn't sound too eager, patted a patch of grass beside him. Ginny sat gratefully and drew her knees up to her chest. She looked so tiny and bright in contrast to the dark lake, like a white dwarf star in the sky.

"Have you eaten?" Ginny looked concerned. Harry, with a jolt, was reminded of how hungry he was.

"No, I haven't. I guess I should ask Kreacher if he could bring us something. Would you like that?"

Ginny nodded and stared at her feet. Was she avoiding looking at him? He couldn't look _that_ terrible: He had bathed for a short while before he went to bed. Sure, his hair must be a mess, and there must be some smudges on his face that he missed, but could he really look so dreadful she couldn't bear to glance him in the eye?

"Right, then. Er—_Kreacher_!" Harry said awkwardly. With a loud _crack_, Kreacher the house-elf appeared in front of him and Ginny. Kreacher was wearing a tattered, food-splattered rag, with a shining locket hanging over his boney chest. Harry knew that it was the fake Horcrux, the one he and Dumbledore had fetched from a bowl of poisonous liquid a year ago. Harry had given it to Kreacher in August, a thank-you gift for helping Harry find the real locket Horcrux. Kreacher had huge, bat-like ears, with tuffs of gray of sticking from them, and giant, round eyes. Harry heard Ginny recoil a little.

"Yes, Master Harry?" Kreacher croaked.

"Do you think that you could bring Ginny and I any food?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes! Yes, Kreacher will certainly bring food to Master Harry and Miss Ginny! Right away!" Kreacher disappeared with a tiny _pop_.

"That was Sirius's house-elf?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Yeah," Harry answered "he went to me after Sirius died."

Ginny nodded again.

Harry felt quite relieved when Kreacher reappeared with a high stack of ham and cheese sandwiches, mead, and pumpkin juice, as he didn't have the task to strike up another conversation with Ginny.

They both ate and drank in silence. Harry wondered why Ginny was suddenly so quiet and reserved, as she hadn't seemed that way only a few hours ago.

"So, how's your wrist?" asked Harry after swallowing the last of his second sandwich.

"What? Oh, that." she placed her goblet of pumpkin juice on the grass and held her left wrist up to the sunlight. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in a second. She even took care of some of my cuts, but I got out in a few minutes. Did you hear about Lavender Brown?"

Harry wracked his memory for a moment.

"Oh!" he exclaimed as he remembered Greyback attacking her. "What happened? Is she alright?"

"Well, she's alive. Madam Pomfrey told me that she's at St. Mungo's now, but she's pretty badly hurt. She's…well, they reckon she's going to be a werewolf for now on, since Greyback was transformed when he…you know, attacked her. But…he only scratched her, really, so…they don't know…" Ginny paused when she was done speaking and grabbed her pumpkin juice. While she was drinking, Harry sipped his mead and stared at the lake. Lavender Brown…a werewolf? Another Lupin? Another innocent person forced to fit the mold cast by society?

Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he saw s tear fall off of Ginny's freckled nose and onto her left knee, which was still hugged close to her chest.

"Ginny! What's wrong?" Harry placed his drink on the ground and moved closer to Ginny. She stared up at the dimming sky, her lips curled into her mouth, breathing hard.

"I-I don't even _know_, Harry!" she sniffled. "I just…everything is so…so terrible and…and it shouldn't be! You-Know-…Voldemort is gone!"

"Yeah," said Harry carefully, "he is. But that doesn't mean that everyone is suddenly numb and invincible. Death and destruction still hurts, Ginny."

Ginny wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

"I don't know how to feel anymore."

"Neither do I. Listen, just give things time. I promise everything will make sense in the end." Harry clasped both hands between his. She looked so sad, so helpless, but so pretty all at the same time.

"Speak…speaking of things making sense…Harry, what the _hell_ has been happening over the past year?"

Perhaps Ginny hadn't been expecting Harry's pained expression, for she quickly added, "If and when you want to tell me, of course!"

"No," said Harry gently, "No, you deserve to know all of it. Everything."

"I can wait if you want." she said quickly. Ginny pulled her hands from his and placed them on his shoulders. "I can wait." she repeated. Harry gave her a small smile.

"You've had your wait. You deserve to know what's been—"

"—and you deserve some time to recover." Ginny added.

"You want to know."

"Sure I do. But you don't want to tell me…now."

"I do!" defended Harry. Deep down, he knew Ginny was correct, but he also knew that she had to hear what has been happened, and the sooner the better. Harry was suddenly reminded of Dumbledore mentioning something about postponing recollecting painful memories back in his fourth year...

"_Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it._"

Harry knew he had to tell somebody about what he's been through. What he, Hermione, and Ron had been through. He couldn't keep it bottled inside him for another day, another hour, not even another minute, he had to tell someone.

"Ginny," Harry said, "I'm going to tell you every single thing that has happened with Voldemort since I was eleven, and you're going to listen. Okay?"

Ginny released her knees from her chest and stretched her legs out upon the grass.

"Okay," she agreed. Her brown eyes twinkled, and Harry was suddenly filled with gratitude. If there was anyone he was going to tell his adventures to, he was glad it was Ginny.

He was really glad it was Ginny.

* * *

**Woo!**

**Here's the origin and meaning of the name "Tamah", because I'm just weird like that and I have to handpick my names:**

"**The meaning of the name ****Tamah ****is** **Innocent, ****Honest, ****Naïve**

**The origin of the name ****Tamah**** is Hebrew**

**-_Babynames dotcom_ **

**lawlz i iz a nurd.**

**Anyway, remember, three reviews! Thankies:**


	7. Reliving it

'**Kay, I'm a bitch. Sorry guys, I haven't updated this story in FOREVER, but I was steadily working on it, I swear :D**

**You guys know how hard it is to write when school work is eating you alive.**

**Here's a recape, in case you forgot:**

**Harry begins to tell Ginny what happened…in the last…his lifetime. Right.**

**I'll stop blabbering now, here's your story:D**

* * *

Ginny listened patiently, even hungrily, to every word Harry had to say. When he'd forget his place, Ginny would always prompt him back to where he was. She asked questions occasionally, letting Harry know that she was paying attention. Painstakingly he told her event after event, sometimes adding "Remember that, it's important", but mostly just letting go of all his memories for her eager ears. Ginny gasped in horror when he told her the details of Horcruxes, and gave him a very sympathetic, comforting look when he mentioned seeing his parents, Cedric, the old muggle man, and Bertha Jorkins come from Voldemort's wand. 

"A _what_ came out of her neck?" shrieked Ginny when Harry, a good hour later, recounted what had occurred in Bathilda Bagshot's house.

"A snake." said Harry glumly. That particular memory had made him quite nauseous while describing. Ginny let go of Harry's hand, which she had grabbed when he told her about going to see his parent's graves, and used it to cover her mouth in disgust.

"That's _horrid!_" she squeaked. Harry nodded darkly, and then continued, his eyes fixed on a single pale, pink lily next to Ginny's left knee. He explained to her all about finding Aberforth and hearing Ariana's story. He mentioned Sirius's mirror and she grabbed his hand tightly again.

"I miss Sirius," Ginny said quietly, moments after she took his hand.

"Yeah, me too," Harry closed his eyes. An image of his godfather's laughing face and dark hair flashed across his mind.

"Anyway," began Harry, opening his eyes, "that's how Aberforth knew where we were…"

And again, off he went. It was becoming difficult now. Bringing up these memories of the war hurt him, and with every mention of Dobby, Lupin, or Fred, Harry felt his layers peel off, and became more and more emotionally naked. He kept talking, though, trying desperately to ignore raw spots in the explanation.

And, as if hearing her from underwater, her utterances blurry and faint, Ginny laughed.

It took Harry a moment to remember what he had just said.

"She _kissed_ him? Just like that? I knew it would happen—I knew it!" Ginny triumphantly pumped her fist in the air, grinning more than she had the entire day. "I knew Ron liked her, of course, you could just _tell_. And poor Hermione! Last year she couldn't stop moping around when Ron was going out with Lavender. And now Hermione just went up and _snogged_ him? Oh, this is great!" Ginny surrendered to a case of silent giggles and Harry smiled stupidly beside her.

"So what'd you do?" hiccupped Ginny.

"What do you think I did? I told them to quit it since there was a war!"

Ginny laughed again, and it acted like balm on his wounds, giving him the strength only a phoenix song could.

"Right, so, go on, then," said Ginny.

Harry felt the suffocating dread looming from behind his next words and wondered if Ginny felt it too. Fred's death was drawing closer. He was now chatting on about Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, trying to postpone the moment where he would have to tell her the story of her brother's loss. But it came almost too quickly, like things always did when you dreaded them.

"Did…did Hermione, Ron, or Percy tell you about…about how Fred…died?" asked Harry cautiously. Ginny looked down at her hands.

"No…I…I told Hermione I wanted to know—Percy was too shaken up to tell me, all he said was that it was his fault and stuff and Ron was, well, asleep—but Hermione wouldn't say. She said that he…that Fred went laughing and that was all that mattered."

"Oh," Harry had been hoping that she already heard. "You still want to know, then?"

Ginny nodded and a faint crease formed between her eyebrows. It was Harry's turn to take her hand. He spoke softly; his tone sealed with sympathy, and told her everything.

"…Hermione was right…he did go laughing. And he went bravely. You know how Fred was—he would have wanted it that way." Harry finished.

"Yeah," Ginny's voice quivered and Harry knew she couldn't bring herself to say anything more. Harry gripped her hand more tightly and continued, now speaking of Snape's death.

"Wow…he's really dead…" said Ginny in a small voice.

Harry didn't bother to nod. He went into detail all about trekking to the headmaster's office and depositing Snape's memories into Dumbledore's Pensive. He paused.

"Ginny," said Harry, "I'm sorry…but I have no idea how to explain these memories to you…"

"I do!" Ginny took a long look at Harry before speaking again. "How about…how about you show them to me?"

Harry swallowed.

"Sure," he said. "Sure…let's go, then?" Harry stood up, and helped Ginny on her feet. His legs felt wobbly and unstable from sitting so long, so he stumbled a little, causing Ginny to giggle reluctantly. Her face was cast into a purple shadow by the diminishing sunlight, and Harry could already see Venus grinning down at him.

"Wait!" Ginny called suddenly. She placed her arm on his shoulder and bent down.

"Yeah?"

"Look," Ginny came back up holding the same lily that had been lying next to her knee previously. She grabbed her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the flower, muttering a few choice words for a spell under her breath. "There!" Ginny smiled and carefully placed the lily in Harry's hand. "Everlasting charm. You can bet all your galleons that this flower will never wilt."

Harry felt the corners of his mouth pull into a smile.

"Just a reminder…that things can still remain innocent and pure even though everything around them seems…" Ginny stopped and looked around at the grounds, obviously searching for the perfect description. "…so hopeless and terrible."

"Thanks," Harry said quietly, enclosing his fingers around the soft petals of the lily. Harry put the flower in his pocket, making a mental note to place it someplace more considerable later.

They arrived in the headmaster's office rather quickly, though Harry wasn't paying much attention. He stepped over the stone gargoyle ("People have been walking past me all day, and you would think someone would have the decency to fix me up! I want to celebrate too!") and onto the spiraling staircase, which mimicked an escalator and carried both he and Ginny up. Harry, upon entering the dazzling, beautiful, circular room, led Ginny to the Pensive. It was perched on the cluttered desk, just as he had last left it, the contents inside shimmering smartly. Harry placed one hand on the side of the stone basin, his eyes grazing over the complicated and runic inscriptions along the edge.

"Here," said Harry, and he took Ginny's wrist and hovered her hand above the Pensive. "Now, when I tell you to, put your hand inside the…stuff in there. You'll go into Snape's memories, alright? No one will be able to see you. You'll come out when…everything's over."

Ginny nodded and peered eagerly around her hand at the memories swirling inside the Pensive.

"Ginny, one last thing," Harry squeezed her wrist a little tighter, "Don't get scared at what you hear and see or anything, okay? It's all over now. Remember that."

Ginny bobbed her head again.

"Good luck, then," said Harry and he let go of her hand, letting it fall into the basin. Ginny was immediately pulled into the Pensive. Harry's eyes were fixed on the place where she disappeared for a few moments, until he tore them away to look at Dumbledore's portrait on the wall. Dumbledore was smiling gaily at Harry, blinking his brilliant blue eyes every now and then. Silence ensued.

"Snape's portrait isn't on the wall." Harry observed finally. Dumbledore's portrait frowned slightly.

"No, I suppose it isn't. Does that bother you, Harry?"

Harry kneaded his forehead. "Maybe," he muttered, barely moving his lips.

"Have you any respect for Severus Snape now that you've seen into his troubled past?" Dumbledore tilted his head slightly and stared at Harry with deep curiosity. Harry looked at the carpet, suddenly feeling slightly annoyed.

"Maybe," Harry repeated.

"Only time will tell, am I correct?"

"…Maybe," said Harry for the third time. Dumbledore looked satisfied, though, and took to grinning happily again. Harry slid down onto the floor and leaned his back against the side of the desk. What _about_ Snape? Could Harry possibly still dislike him after all he had done for him? After all Snape had felt for Lily?

Apparently so.

Snape was always mean to Harry, and Harry knew that. Though part of his heart pitied Snape's miserable life, the other, more dominate half, couldn't just forget Snape's sneers and loathing, repulsed looks. Snape _hated_ Harry. Harry hated Snape. Everything felt so…simple that way. The one thing Harry could rely on was that he and Snape were enemies, just like he and Voldemort. But everything was thrown out of order the second Harry realized all that Snape could possibly have ever harbored tender, human feelings.

Harry placed his head in his hands and groaned. Snape, the same that Snape he had always hated beyond reason, loved his mother. And of all the lives Harry could think of, none were as tragic as Snape's, Harry knew that. Snape had his only love taken from him by his worse enemy, and then was the reason she died. He lived a double life, and had to stare the product of his worst nightmare straight into _her_ eyes every potion class…

Harry was brought back to his senses when he heard a soft disturbance on the carpet. Looking up, he found Ginny standing in front of him, her arms hung limply at her sides, and her cheeks tear-streaked.

"…W-what?" asked Ginny faintly before falling to the ground and crawling next to Harry, like a small toddler looking for comforting arms to assure them that everything was okay, that there was no monster in the closet, that the scary figures were only shadows, that the storm was finally, blissfully over…

Harry enveloped Ginny into his arms without thinking, and held her close. She hugged back, nestling her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, and breathed shallowly.

"You…you weren't…" she whispered, lifting her head. Harry gave a humorless laugh.

"Oh, I was." he replied. Ginny pulled away.

"Sorry," she sniffled, "caught up in the moment."

"It happens." Harry shrugged. Ginny nodded and turned away from him, perhaps trying to hide the tears that Harry knew were steadily cascading down her freckled cheeks.

"…But how are you still…alive? Dumbledore said…Dumbledore told Snape to tell you that you had to die." Ginny was still facing away from Harry when she spoke.

"Well, I wasn't done explaining everything that happened, there's more. Should I continue?" Harry put a carefully placed hand on Ginny's shoulder.

"Is it emotionally exhausting?"

"Very."

"Go for it."

Harry launched into what had occurred after finding himself lying face-down in a musty carpet knowing that his life was drawing to a close…terribly fast. He described to Ginny everything from his conversation with Neville Longbottom to his wildly-thumping heart. She held his hand the entire time, while Harry was forced to relive the most tremendous and disheartening moments of his entire life. Why was it so easy to tell Ron and Hermione?

_Because you were too busy being relieved to care_¸ said the wise voice in the back of his head.

Harry stopped talking.

Ginny had been clinging on to every single word Harry was uttering, she had been listening more than he could have hoped for. She took note of the sudden pause and gave him a quick hug.

"It's okay," she whispered into his ear. Harry swallowed. Surely his throat wasn't mysteriously closing? He had stopped mid sentence, right while recalling the moment when his parents, Lupin, and Sirius all appeared in front of him. Harry opened his mouth to start again, but no words came out. The memories kept swirling around inside his mind, and it was as if they were cotton inside his mouth, clogging his words.

"It's alright," Ginny said comfortingly, "its fine. It's all over now."

Harry pressed on. "Right, s—so as I was saying, I turned the Resurrection Stone in my hand three times…"

Ginny nodded and reached her hand into the space between Harry's spine and the side of the desk, and rubbed the small of his back encouragingly.

"My…my mother, my father, Sirius and Lupin…just…appeared."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, just appeared. And they were all smiling, really happy. My mum…my mum, she came up to me and said—"

"You don't have to tell me what she said. You don't have to tell me what anyone of them said. Their words were meant for you…and you alone. You deserve to keep them." Ginny said strongly, looking defiant. Harry shook his head.

"No, no, you deserve to hear, it's fine, really. They would want me to."

Ginny, defeated with the sincerity in Harry's voice, nodded again and squeezed his hand. "Alright then," she said quietly.

"Right, my mum came up to me and she looked at me…and she told me…she said that I've been…brave—" Harry's voice cracked as the memory sucked him in, engulfed him in its emotion, its importance, its feeling of loss and yet, serenity. But he couldn't stop now…Harry had to continue.

"Then my dad said that they were all proud of me…" Harry's voice was hoarse and raw.

"So am I." Ginny gave Harry a small smile, which he couldn't return.

"I asked if dying would hurt. Sirius told me it didn't…" His Godfather's face emerged in his mind, and it was almost too much to bear. "I told Lupin I was sorry he died, with Teddy and all…"

Harry broke.

Tears pushed from behind his eyes onto his cheeks. Some fell onto the carpet, while others disappeared on his lips or splattered onto his cloak. It was overwhelming him, and now that he had begun, it was difficult to stop. Harry was crying—crying harder than he ever had memory of doing so. Not while visiting his parent's graves, not at Dumbledore's funeral, or even when he was four and Dudley pushed Harry down the stairs, resulting in a bloody nose. Harry cradled his heavy, tired head in his callused hands and tried to control himself. But their faces…all of their faces kept swimming in his mind's eye.

"Oh, Harry! Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry…" Ginny wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. "You must really miss them," she said softly. Harry lifted his head.

"M-more than you can imagine." His voice cracked again as he surrendered to another wave of grief and tears. Ginny released him, took her wand from her pocket and conjured up two cups of steaming tea.

"Here," Ginny handed Harry a white teacup. "Drink it; it'll make you feel better."

Harry shook his head, unable to speak.

"My mum always gives me tea when I'm upset. I thought—"

"I-it's fine, Ginny, I just don't want tea right now. I j-just want—"

"You just want to be hugged and forget about everything." It was as if Ginny read his mind. Harry, feeling rather childish, nodded as she brought him into her arms and swayed slightly from side to side. "Talk it all out," Ginny cooed. "Say everything you're feeling and you won't have to think about it anymore."

Harry accepted the challenge without thinking. "Seeing them in-infront of me…" he said "it made me…deep down…I-I almost _wanted_ to d-die…just…just so I could be with them…I guess…" The more Harry thought about it, the more true he realized it was. So true, in fact, that it brought on another throttling shake, another strangled sob.

"Harry," Ginny said in a thick voice, "you're going to make me cry…again." She laughed feebly.

"Sorry…to dump this all on you…" Harry was more than aware that he had excessive emotional baggage. Maybe Ginny couldn't handle him…maybe Harry was too much for anybody…

"No! No, you aren't dumping _anything_ on me, I swear. Continue, please."

Harry took a trembling breath. He wanted to regain control over himself. He didn't want to sit in front of Ginny and act like a sniveling little boy. But everything that he had been through during the past night and the last seven years of his life kept boiling to the surface.

"I have had to go through my entire life…losing…never gaining…" babbled Harry. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked. "Have you really lived and only lost?"

"I didn't mean it that way." Harry said quickly. "It's just, doesn't it seem as if everyone I care about…dies? My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Fred, Lupin, Tonks…and those are just the humans. What about Hedwig and Dobby?" More reluctant tears fell, but Ginny didn't seem to notice.

"So…so all of those you've lost, which is a lot, I'm not going to disagree, are you the only one who experienced their death?"

"No, but—"

"In case you didn't know, Harry, I cared about Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Fred, Lupin, and Tonks too. I really did. You aren't the only one who lost people."

"I know, I'm not—"

"And what about everyone that you _do_ have? What about Ron and Hermione? My mum and dad? Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Pavarti, Padma? Every single person that fought against Voldemort last night was there for you. I'm here for you. You have an awful lot, Harry, a lot more than people like Voldemort ever had." Ginny looked at Harry, her eyes glistening. She was right…completely right…Harry has more than Voldemort ever did. Voldemort's lack of love is what created him, is what _made_ him so evil and terrible.

"I know I do." said Harry. "I know that I have more than I could have ever asked for when I lived with my aunt and uncle. I know I have friends and that people really care. It's just…sometimes I also wish that I had things like parents and a godfather." Harry set his wobbling jaw and picked at the carpet with his hand that wasn't being grasped by Ginny.

"I just don't want you coming out of all of this thinking you lost everything…because you haven't. You know that." Ginny smiled lightly. "Alright. Go on."

Harry told her all that he had felt walking alongside those he thought he'd never see again. It was like an entirely different world, Harry said, it was as if he wasn't just Harry anymore…but also a friend, son, and godson all over again. He was holding back his tears now, trying to cling onto the last scrap of dignity he had left. Acting like this in front of Ginny…it was mortifying. Every time Harry's voice splintered, his face turned awfully warm and he had to look away. He began to start telling the rest of his adventures without realizing, and soon enough it was like he was standing defenseless in front of Voldemort all over again…

There was a knock on the headmaster's door.

Ginny looked at Harry, silently asking approval to let the knocker inside. Harry furiously wiped at his eyes with his sleeve and nodded.

Ginny hopped up pulled open the door. Hermione and Ron toppled in, both grinning stupidly, as if they knew a secret Harry didn't. Their hands were clasped, and Harry began to laugh at the irony of it all, remembering back to when Ron said to him, "_All's fair in love and war, and this a bit of both_."

* * *

'**Aight, so I think one more chapter should finish this puppy up. I'm not going to give you a promised update in the next few weeks, but let's just say it should probably be out in less than two months.**

**I love you all for sticking through this with me:D**

**Hokay, so, review if you want to make me really happy. I'm definitely going to finish, so there's no "three reviews and I'll update" thing, but I would consider it a nice little holiday gift:D**

**Santa/Martin the Menorah/(insert name of your fictional winter holiday figure) is watching!**

**All critism is welcome! My English teacher entered me into a state writing contest, so I would really appreciate it if you could inform me on what I need to improve (writing-wise), in order for me to have a chance at pwning everyone else ;D**

**Hah, and don't forget to talk about the story in your reviews!**

**Thanks!**


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